We are Alive
by TyphoonSignal10
Summary: The butterfly effect; the smallest changes can have the biggest effects. But chaos isn't always bad, not every flap of a butterfly's wings leads to a storm. Sometimes it can lead to something else, something better. A 'perfect' ending to the story of Max Caulfield and Chloe Price. Coverart by thiefofstarz on Deviantart.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I recently got Life is Strange on Steam, and played the shit out of it for two days. I loved it. It wasn't what I was expecting. I din't exactly watch many trailers, but I was sort of expecting two friends, one who has supernatural powers using them to do shit like pass exams, win the lottery, prank people and then the whole thing getting slightly out of control. So I expected the Tornado. I expected the high school bitchiness and using the power to navigate that. I expected the alternate realities. I didn't expect the dark room. This little story is entirely wish-fulfillment on my part. I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review if you did.  
**

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 **EDIT: 27/04/16: This story now has coverart courtesy of thiefofstarz on deviantart. Go and check her out.**

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We stand on the cliffs beneath the lighthouse, the storm is in front of us and the wind and the rain whip around us. She hands me a polaroid, a blue butterfly on a cleaning bucket. I remember this photo. She is talking to me, telling me to go back, to fix all of this, to- to let her die. She is crying. I cannot do this. I cannot kill my friend. I won't kill Chloe. I love her.

I love her.

She is talking again. She calls herself selfish. She says she doesn't deserve my friendship. She mentions her mother, Joyce. Says that Joyce doesn't deserve to die in a diner. Doesn't deserve to be killed by the storm, my storm. She talks about David, says he deserves Joyce alive. She talks about everyone in Arcadia Bay. As she does I see them all.

Joyce. Evan. Alyssa. Courtney. Kate. David. Logan. Principal Wells. Hayden. Justin. Brooke. Frank. Dana. Stella. Juliet. Samuel. Taylor. Trevor. Zach. Daniel. Luke.

Warren.

I won't trade her. I can't. She insists. She talks about destiny. Says I have delayed her hers. Tells me how many times she's died this week, almost and actually. Tells me about all the shit that's happened her since I saved her. Says that for once, just this once, we should accept her fate, our fate. She tells me that I have shown nothing but love and friendship. Tells me she hasn't smiled or laughed in years. Not the way I have made her this week. All those moments were real, she tells me. Wherever she ends up, they will always be real. She tells me she knows I will always make the right decision. She doesn't know, how can she know.

How many times have I fucked up. How many times have I rewound history to get what I want. This storm, this is what my 'right decisions' have created. This is my fault. I can't make the choice. I tell her and she argues. Says I'm the only one who can. She's right.

She's right.

It is time, she says. I don't want to do this. She hugs me. For the last time. We have to, she says, we have to save everybody. She wants me to make them pay for Rachel. She tells me that this week has been the best farewell gift she could have asked for. But if I do what she asks me now... She will die never having known any of it. She calls me her hero. I'm not a hero. I'm a stupid little girl messing with power that I do not understand.

I take her face in my hands and we kiss. It is long and desperate. I will never be able to kiss her like this again. She will die and I will never be able to hold her again. She tells me she will always love me. Tells me to get out of here before she freaks. She tells me not to forget about her. I will never forget about her. How could I. I love her.

I take the photo in my hands. I stare at the butterfly. Focus on the image that feels like it was taken thousands of years ago. I feel time shift around me and suddenly I am in the girls' bathroom at Blackwell academy, bending over to capture the image of the butterfly with my old camera. I drop the photo and it falls to the floor.

I lean past the stall and the door opens. I hide. I hide like I did before. Nathan enters. He talks to himself. He is freaking out. I remember this. The door opens again and Chloe enters. Oh God, Chloe. My best friend, my lover, and I'm going to let her die. I hear her voice, talking about her step-ass and perimeters, knowing that these are some of the last words I am ever going to hear her say. I slide down the wall to the floor. I can already feel the tears forming.

Nathan has drawn his gun. I can hear the fear in Chloe's voice. She is scared. She is afraid. No, she is terrified. Time slows. She is going to die. There is nothing I can do.

No. I can do something. I can confront Nathan. A natural way to change things. No powers. Nothing that only someone who could see the future would do. I stand. Time is still slowed. I come round the edge of the stall. I hear- feel myself shouting. Nathan is startled. He spins around, the gun in his hand. It fires.

I feel nothing. I am numb. Nathan is panicking. He has thrown the gun to the floor. Chloe pushes past him. I fall. I hit the floor. I still don't feel anything. Red spreads out across the floor. I have been shot. Not Chloe, me. Chloe is upon me now. She realises who I am. She is panicking. She shouts for help. I look down. Blood is blossoming from my chest. I can change this. I can try again.

I cannot. I can't access my power. I can't do anything. I can only lie here on the floor letting my life flow out of me. The door opens. David enters. I can't hear anything. I can't feel anything. My vision goes black from the edges. I end.

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 **A/N: If you just want to read a story where Max goes back and dies in Chloe's place, stop here. If not, continue to chapter Two, which should be up shortly.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is Chapter Two. Took slightly longer to upload because I couldn't get the last two/three sentences to behave themselves. What you see is the fifth or so iteration of those three sentences. I hope you enjoy it.**

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I wake up. I am groggy. I see white.

Is this Heaven?

Was Kate right?

No. It is not Heaven. I see green. I see machines surrounding me. This is a hospital. I hear voices. They sound far off, distant. I try to move. I cannot. I am too weak. Or am I like Chloe, paralysed? I remember her telling me of the pain she was in. I don't want that.

Wait, Chloe. Is she alive? The voices come into focus. Their owners come into view. Doctors and nurses. Talking to me.

"Maxine! Maxine! Can you hear me? Can you respond?"

I struggle to speak. "Max," I say, "Never Maxine." I am surprised at the sound of my voice. How scratchy it sounds.

"She's responsive." One of them says, "She's awake."

I am more than awake. I am alive.

I am told that I have been asleep for a week. That it is Monday the 14th of October. I am told that I am lucky. Unbelievably lucky. They tell me that Nathan's shot impacted the centre of my sternum. That it drilled all the way through and then stopped. They tell me again that I am lucky. They tell me that my parents are outside waiting to see me and am I okay for visitors. I am.

My parents are so relieved to see me awake. They cry. I have never seen Dad cry before. I don't like it. He shouldn't cry. Neither should Mom. They tell me that they are so glad that I am alive. They tell me that Joyce called them after Chloe told her what happened. I ask about Chloe. They tell me that she was shocked to see me, even more so to see me bleeding on the floor of the girls' bathroom. She wants to see me apparently. But wanted to give my parents space. I understand. I ask them about what I have missed whilst in hospital. They glance at each other. There is something they don't want to tell me. I push and they cave.

When the cops came for Nathan he buckled and told them everything. Mark Jefferson's studio was found and he was arrested. They don't tell me about the studio or what was in it. They want to spare me from that horror. I understand. But it is too late. I know. I _was_ one of those girls. They can never know or understand that I know everything about that bunker. There is no mention of a tornado. There was no tornado. I saved Chloe and there was no tornado. I smile as I drift back off to sleep. I have done it. I saved my friend, and Arcadia Bay.

The next time I open my eyes, Chloe is there. She is asleep in a chair at the side of my room, jacket thrown over the back of the chair, beanie on the floor behind her, blue hair a mess. She is a mess, but she is still beautiful to me. I try to sit up. I have learnt that I am not paralysed, just weak. I am still to weak to sit up. I knock something off the side table. It smashes on the floor. I try to rewind, but I cannot, am I still too weak? Or do I no longer possess the power to rewind time. I remember all the destruction I caused with it before, perhaps this is for the best. Chloe wakes up, startled. I smile at her.

"Max! You're awake!"

"Yes." It is all I am capable of. I don't care. She is alive. My beautiful Chloe is alive and safe.

"Shit Max, I don't hear from you in five years and then there you are getting shot in the chest."

I smile, "I thought I was shot in the toilets."

She laughs. I love it when she laughs. "Damn, Max, you certainly time your jokes well."

"I'm sorry." I say. She is confused.

"For what?"

"For not calling. For abandoning you when I went to Seattle."  
"Damn straight you should be." She relaxes, "But then you come back and, and I think you saved my life Max. If you hadn't intervened, that asshole would probably have shot me, and I don't think I'd have been as lucky as you."

She's right. I am lucky. Hella lucky, as she might say.

"What did I break?" I ask.

"Vase of flowers." She tells me, "From, hang on." She stoops to recover the flowers and a card from amongst the debris, "From Kate." She places the yellow flowers in another vase already filled with blue flowers which I see are from Warren. I am relieved that Kate is alive. I had feared that with me in the hospital she would have jumped and died. I am glad that she did not. Chloe drags her chair closer to my bed and sits in it. She is leaning forward, elbows on knees and wringing her hands and I can tell that something is wrong.

"Chloe, what's wrong?"

She sighs, "I just feel like this is my fault Max. If I hadn't blackmailed Nathan Prescott into meeting me in the bathroom, you wouldn't have been shot and ended up in hospital." She blames herself. She is blaming herself for what has happened to me. I do not need rewind to know what that feels like for her. I have felt it myself. I know what she needs to hear, I think.

"It wasn't your fault Chloe. I don't blame you for anything. I'm just glad I'm not dead. And that you're not dead."

She smiles, "Yeah, I suppose you do got a lot to be hella grateful for. It's good to see you again Max."

"You too, Chloe."

She stands, "Well, I gotta go. Gotta get home before step-douche shows up and accuses me of boosting hospital meds." She takes her jacket from the back of the chair, scrabbles around on the floor for her beanie. "When you're better we should hang Max. Give me a call, yeah."

"I will." I promise her. Once she has left I look out the window and see her beaten-up pick truck roar out of the hospital parking lot, clipping the verge as she does. I smile, don't ever change Chloe.

I lie back in the bed, still smiling. I did it. I saved Chloe, my beautiful, brilliant, blue-haired punk. She is alive and we can fall in love all over again.

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 **A/N: And there it is. I might continue this. I might not. I feel that this is a good place to end my story, but I could also do maybe a couple more chapters if there is demand for it. Or I might just do it anyway. Who knows.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think and feel free to ask me any questions about the story that you may have.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I wasn't expecting this story to get as many favourites/follows as quickly as it did. Enough of you wanted me to continue the story so here we go. This chapter gives insight into what happened to Kate over the last week, and how Max and some others are reacting to Max being shot. Please continue leaving reviews with your opinions and ideas on what sort of thing you'd like me to cover. Thanks.**

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I awake in my room on campus. My parents initially hadn't wanted me to come back to Blackwell but I convinced them, saying that I had settled in and made friends. The fact that we would not be able to afford a similar quality of schooling without my scholarship may also have had an effect on their decision to allow me to remain in Arcadia Bay. They had however insisted that I text them everyday and call at least once a week. I understand their concerns, I had been shot and they were worried.

I stand up and get my shower things from the wardrobe. I step out of my room and into the corridor. The low level noise that always seems to permeate the corridors of Blackwell suddenly stops. I know why. I know that they are looking at me, talking about me perhaps. I find that at the moment I don't really care, I am too tired and can only focus on the shower I intend to have. I glance at the slate outside Kate's room and note that it does not carry a message stating her willingness to 'twerk for Jesus' or whatever foul epithet Victoria has dreamt up this week. Clearly there are more important things to gossip about.

No one else is in the bathroom when I enter. I choose a stall at random and begin to undress. As I do, I glance down at my chest and catch a sight of the scars on my chest. The small round scar from the gunshot is barely the size of my fingertip and rests just at the top of my breasts, the incision made to remove it is about an inch and a half in length and runs straight through the gunshot in a vertical line. No more low cut tops for me I suppose, not that I ever wore such things in the first place. I chide myself mentally for dwelling on such frivolous things. Still, I cannot help but run my fingers over the circular depression and trace the line numerous times whilst I shower.

No one talks to me after I leave the bathroom either, but I see some staring at me from behind their doors. I ignore it and keep walking. When I reach my room I am accosted by Kate. She is happy to see me.

"Max." I turn and she throws her arms around me, "I'm so glad you're back." I pat her on the back.

"It's good to be back Kate."

She releases me, "I prayed for you." She says. I am unsure how to respond. I have never been religious, never found the concrete faith Kate seems to possess, although, thinking back to what happened on the roof in the previous time line, perhaps her faith was never as concrete and unshakeable as it seemed to be. I decide to play it safe with;

"Thank you, Kate." Deciding that perhaps I need to say something else, "How are you?"

"How am I? You're the one who got shot."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean other people can't have troubles too."

She looks slightly uncertain, "Well, people haven't been as mean to me since they found out about Nathan and Mr Jefferson. So, that's good. I suppose."

She doesn't seem to be harbouring any thoughts about jumping off the roof any more, so that's a good sign, still...

"If you ever need to talk about anything Kate, anything at all, I'll be here."

She smiles after a moment, "Thank you, Max, you're a good friend."  
"So are you," I tell her, "I got your flowers in the hospital."

Her smile widens, "Yes, yellow is such a happy colour, isn't it? I've always thought that hospitals should be painted in brighter colours to make the people there happier."

I enter my room and begin to dress myself for the day, unfortunately my favourite Jane Doe shirt didn't survive its excursion to the girl's bathroom a little over a week ago and my grey hooded sweatshirt is now an unappealing brown colour and lies in a bin somewhere in the hospital. Instead, I dig out a white shirt with a large purple-blue butterfly, and a blue hooded sweatshirt that has fallen from its hangar. I leave my room and head to my morning lessons.

During Algebra, I get a text from Warren, asking if I have any cool scars, and if I can meet him in the parking lot at lunch time with his flash drive. I remember what happened the last time I did that, although this time, there will be no Nathan Prescott to interrupt and get in a fight with Warren.

When I return to the dormitories, I remember that Dana has borrowed the flash drive, and I will need to go and get it from her room. As I enter the girls' dorm, Juliet rushes out of Dana's room and slams the door behind her.

"You can't get out now Dana! So tell me the truth, or rot in there!"

It seems that Victoria has postponed her pranks by a week. I approach Juliet just as she takes out her phone and begins dialling Zach.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"I've locked Dana in the room until she stops lying to me."

"What did she do?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because Dana's my friend , and I thought you two were friends as well."

"So?" At this point Dana pipes up from within her room.

"Max! She thinks I've been sexting her boyfriend!"

"Stop denying it!" Juliet shouts.

"How did you find out?" I ask.

"Victoria told me."

"Victoria Chase?"

"No, Victoria I of England, yes Victoria Chase!"

"And you believe Victoria over Dana? The girl who likes to stir up as much trouble as possible over your friend?"

Juliet opens and closes her mouth a few times. "Well, when you put it like that..." She turns and unlocks the door behind her. Once again she apologises to Dana and they have the same conversation about food and laundry. Once Juliet leaves, intending to go and speak to Victoria, Dana invites me into her room, telling me that Warren's flash drive is on her desk. Once inside she asks me how I am.

"I'm good Dana."

"But you were shot." She hisses, "Doesn't that, you know, feel weird?"

"It didn't feel like anything." I tell her, "At least, I don't remember feeling anything."

She clearly wants to ask more, but doesn't object when I grab Warren's flash drive and leave. I have to hurry if want to get the drive to Warren, and have time to eat lunch.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Dear internet, thank you for blowing up my e-mail inbox with notifications regarding this story. Seriously, in the last week, I've recieved almost a hundred e-mails about this story. It's a really good feeling knowing that something that started as just a little bit of wish-fulfillment has been so popular among the community.**

 **Rayne Arianna Maranochi: Okay then**

 **Fun with typing: Perfection? Okay, if you think it is, then thank you for your kind words.**

 **Guest(28/10): Maybe, remember, they don't know any of Max's action because for them it hasn't happened yet.**

 **Thief39: That's definitely on my to-do list, I'm not sure how far down the line it's going to be, but I've got some ideas for that.**

 **Larom: I haven't actually seen the sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending. I made my choices based on what I would do in Max's shoes(Not that my feet would fit) and I generally didn't rewind to change them. I don't know how Chloe would get her memories, seeing as they didn't belong to a future Chloe but a parallel Chloe instead.**

 **In this chapter Max has a slightly awkward conversation with Warren, enjoy.**

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Warren is waiting for me in the parking lot, leaning against his blue hatchback. He stands as I approach, arms spread for a hug. I decide to reciprocate, this time, after all he went through for me it's the least he deserves, even if he doesn't remember any of it. I hand him the flash drive and he takes it from me.

"Check out my new wheels." He gestures to his car, which looks no better than the last time I saw it.

I tell him it looks very old school. He tells me its from 1978. I already know, I've done this before, but I don't tell him that. He mentions going to the drive-in. I suddenly remember what Dana said to me the first time I did all of this, about Warren, about the folder named 'Max', and I realise what it all means. Unsure of how to proceed, I stall, telling him that he's in the wrong time. He smiles, then places one hand on my shoulder.

"So, how you doing Max? I mean, getting shot's not something that happens everyday, surviving getting shot, even less so."

"You really know how to bring the mood down, don't you." I tell him. He laughs.

"I'm serious Max, how are you?"

"I'm okay." I tell him. "Just won't be wearing any low-cut tops any time soon."

His face lights up, "Oh, neat, you got a scar?"

I punch him playfully on the shoulder, "Yes, I got a scar. No, I'm not pulling my shirt up to let you see it."

He raises his hands defensively, "The thought never even crossed my mind." He places his right hand on his chest and continues in a terrible mock-British accent. "I, am a gentleman."

"Oh yes," I reply in the same voice, "The good sir Graham would never dream of impugning a lady's honour in such a way."

"So did you get a chance to check out the movie booty on the flash drive before, you know..."

"The gunfight at the O.K. Corral?"

He grins, "Yes, that."

"Yeah, I did, I was slightly worried about the number of emo vampire films on there."

"Hey, can't I like films about sensitive vampires as well as horror films about cannibals."

"Oh, so you're sensitive..."

"Ouch... That sounds awful the way you say it."

"How so?"

"Sensitive usually means: 'Won't be having sex with you.'"

I am put on the spot, how am I supposed to respond to that? Honestly, I suppose, without mentioning Chloe, because there's nothing there yet, and without utterly crushing Warren like Victoria would.

"Er... Warren, look, you're a good friend, but I just don't..." I'm lost, I have no idea what to say, "I mean I..." The expression on Warren's face has shifted to one pitched somewhere between horror and terror, and frankly, I'm not sure which would be worse.

"Oh shit, did you think I meant... I didn't..." He's stammering worse than I am, "I don't want to have sex with you. I mean, not that people wouldn't want to..."

"Warren!" I say, "Let's just stop before this gets any more awkward than it already is." I sigh, Dana was right, and I must have been completely blind to miss it. "Warren, I know."

"Know?" He glances furtively left and right, anywhere that means he doesn't have to look me in the eye. "Know what?" Warren Graham is a terrible liar. I push ahead.

"I know that you have, feelings, for me."

"Damn, and I thought I was being so subtle." He jokes.

"Having a folder on your flash drive named 'Max'?" I say, "Real subtle, Warren."

He looks embarrassed. "Yeah, I suppose." He sighs, "We've made this really awkward, huh?"

"Warren, I... You're a good friend..."

"But you don't see me in that way. I get it." He is trying to sound cheery and upbeat and is failing miserably. "I totally understand. It's not the first time this has happened to me."

"I still want to be your friend Warren, I just..."

"Max, I get it. Tell you what, we'll be as awkward as all fuck about this for a few days, then we'll move on, go back to being friends and never mention this again. Deal?" He smiles, and this time, at least some of it is genuine.

"Deal. Sorry Warren." He shrugs.

"Yeah. Okay."

I feel uncomfortable, maybe I can rewind this whole conversation, say something else and avoid all of this. I reach out in my mind, try to find the threads of my power and come up against an infinite, empty void. I guess my power is gone, maybe it is for the best, this conversation would have had to happen eventually and if I waited it would surely only have been worse. I suddenly feel light-headed, as I would before when I tried to rewind too far. I stumble and Warren catches me.

"Max! Are you okay?" I can hear the worry.

"I'm okay," I tell him, "Just a little light-headed is all."

"You sure? Maybe it's something to do with getting shot."

I stand up. "I'm fine, Warren, I just need to get some food. You know, that thing you're supposed to put into your body during lunch?"

He raises his hands again. "Okay, far be it from me to keep you from your food. Seriously though, I don't want to be the reason that you end up passing out in the middle of Blackwell."

I smile. "Good bye Warren."

"Bye Max."

I leave him leaning against his car and head to the canteen, unsure whether or not I've made the right decision.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I really love the soundtrack for this game... Well, most of it. I was listening to the sound track from episode 2/3 when I wrote most of 's a bit of bonding with Chloe. Some of the dialogue is lifted straight from the game, most of it either modified or entirely new. Also, this story is now my most popular on this website, so... congratulations, you all played a part in making that happen. It had beaten a story that is about ten times as long, and has been around for over two years.**

 **n1bro: Chloe definitely will, Warren maybe, I'm not sure. I've got a whole scene in my head for Chloe finding out, but that's some way down the line from here yet.**

 **Larom: She's not having second thoughts about friendzoning him, she's just not entirely comfortable with the way it played out, and over the last week or so(the game) she's become used to being able to go back and change situations she wasn't entirely comfortable with, so this is a bit strange for her. I've always been told that the mark of a good work of fiction is to be able to have different people form different opinions about the same character so...**

 **I see what you're saying about Max and Chloe, but the way I played, I wasn't sure. I spent a good ten-fifteen minutes on that decision and I'm still not completely sure I made the right choice. My Max felt that Chloe wouldn't be happy if Max sacrificed the town (Read: Joyce) for her.**

 **Phanny6: As I said above, there will definitely be a Chloe realisation that all is not right with Max eventually, not sure about Warren. Thank you for the praise and also the offer of help. If I need it, I'll let you know.**

 **Guest(2a/11): 1) But he doesn't know that... yet. 2) No idea, parts of this are being made up as I go along. 3) I'll see what I can do. 4) I didn't know any of that before I read your review. I actually had to google the e-mail and letter and shit are those ladies insensitive. 5) This Chapter mentions Rachel. 6) Everyday heroes was not postponed, it was a national competition, they're not stopping that for one school. 7) A trial scene? not sure how to do that, sorry.**

 **Guest(2b/11): I don't know about everybody, that would be a bit unnecessary but she will be telling at least Chloe.**

 **A reader: Thank you, stay shiny yourself.**

 **Mina: This is posting again, does it qualify as soon?**

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During the afternoon's lessons I am restless. I barely pay attention to the fine details of how to draw hands correctly. Or was it eyes? I don't remember. As I am leaving the classroom my phone vibrates with an arriving text. I check the display and see that it is from Chloe, she wants to meet me in the parking lot. Heart in my mouth, I rush to the parking lot, whilst simultaneously trying to not look like I'm rushing. 'Calm down Max' I mentally chide myself, 'there's no need to make yourself look like an idiot. Chloe's not going anywhere.'

When I arrive in the parking lot, Chloe is leaning against the hood of her truck, smoking. On seeing me approach she takes the cigarette out of her mouth, drops it on the floor and grinds it under her boot.

"Hey, Max." She greets me.

"Chloe."

"So you're already walking around again? I mean it's been what? Two days since you woke up?"

"Yeah. I just felt that I needed to get back into things, you know. I just hated lying in the hospital doing nothing."

She nods, "I can understand that. Hospitals always gave me the creeps, it's all sick people and dying people..." Her voice trails off and I realise that she is remembering being in the hospital as William's life slipped away, the doctors telling her that there was nothing they could do for him. Her expression clears slightly, and she changes to a lighter tone of voice. "Hey, let's not talk about shit like that. Let's talk about happy things, like sparkles and ponies and shit."

I laugh, "Since when is shit happier things?"

A wicked grin crosses her face, "When it's caked on the handle of step-douche's car."

I roll my eyes, that is such a Chloe thing to do. She notices and punches me lightly on the shoulder. "Don't roll your eyes at me Max, if I remember correctly, you were the first one to come up with that idea."

"Yes," I protest, "With shaving foam, when I was twelve."

She shrugs, "The idea's still the same, and still your fault."

"So why did you text me?" I ask, "I mean, you didn't just want to talk about shit."

Chloe's expression becomes more serious, "I just wanted to talk to you. I mean, it's been five years since we last saw each other." She considers something, "You want to go the two whales? Get some food?"

I check my pockets, I have about thirteen dollars in change, should be enough for pancakes or something. "Sure."

"Great, we'll take my truck."

She unlocks the doors and I climb into the dilapidated death trap that Chloe is attempting to pass off as a mode of transportation. I barely have time to fasten my seatbelt before Chloe has already slammed her foot onto the accelerator and the truck roars off, accompanied by the squeal of tortured rubber. This not dissimilar to what happened last time, but last time I was too concerned with Nathan Prescott and my new powers to consider the dangers of Chloe's driving. There is a slightly uncomfortable silence before Chloe speaks.

"So, how's being back in Arcadia Bay?"

"It's weird," I tell her, "even before being shot."

"You just keep bringing that up, huh?"

"Sorry. It's just a pretty big thing, you know?"

She sighs, "Yeah, I get it. So I guess Seattle sucked hard? It must have done, or you wouldn't be back."

"Maybe. I mean, it was great... but I felt lonely, out of my league. Like I was just playing at being a city girl."

"I would have thought you'd fit right in with all the arty hipster types."

I smile, remembering what I said last time, "Coming from the cover model of hipster girl dot com."

Chloe's reaction is slightly different this time. She smirks, "At least you're still a smartass."

"That's why I'm here. Also because I couldn't afford a decent education anywhere else."

"You came back for Blackwell." It's a statement, not a question.

"Of course, it's one of the best photography programs in the country. Or it was, before..."

"Yeah..."

We both go silent, my unfinished sentence hanging in the air between us, each of us thinking about Mark Jefferson and the serious shit he'd gotten up to in his dark room. The local newspaper had been filled with all the gory details from the police investigation, even the Blackwell Totem had run a piece on it, omitting most of the disturbing information. Reading either story had made me shiver as I remembered the room.

Chloe suddenly applied the brakes, and the truck slowed to a standstill at the side of the road. She took her hands off the steering wheel and leant back against her seat.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"I was just... Shit, Max." She stops. "The whole thing with that photography teacher and Nathan Prescott. Nathan killed my best friend."

"Rachel Amber?" I ask.

Chloe turns to me, "How do you know her name?"

I mentally curse myself as I realise that there is no way I should have known about Rachel at all in this timeline. "I saw all the missing posters, and her name was in the news article." I lie, hoping that this is enough to satisfy Chloe. It seems it is. She nods and continues.

"We were going to escape this shitty life, go to LA, she was going to be a model, and I was going to be... Shit, it doesn't matter. Nathan Prescott killed her. Overdosed her on drugs, took perverted photos of her and buried her in the garbage dump." She stops again.

"Chloe..." I say, reaching out a hand, she waves me away.

"Do you know what the most fucked up part is?" I shake my head, "The spot where he buried her? That's where I used to go to smoke when I was at my worst missing her. I would crouch above her body and smoke cigarettes and grass. And I had no idea."

"Chloe... There was no way that you could have known."

"Maybe not, but it still doesn't make me feel any better." She leans forward and slams her head against the rim of the steering wheel. Apparently she slammed it harder than she meant to as she curses under her breath and rubs her forehead.

"Come on, let's go before the cops come by and alert the step-f _ü_ hrer that I'm dicking about on the road, maybe if we're lucky, Mom'll still be on shift and we can get a discount on the food." She slams the accelerator again and we head off to the two whales diner.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yeah, this took a while to write. University was kicking my ass these last few weeks. Sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway.**

 **Larom: I wouldn't say Warren is going to be a _major_ character, but he will appear from time to time. I haven't seen/read/played Stein's gate, and i'm not sure if I'll have time to anytime soon due to other commitments, but maybe, it seems interesting.**

 **n1bro: Thanks for the compliment. I'm not sure if Max will get her rewind back, this story is supposed to be about her and Chloe. But, having said that, I haven't really planned out (m)any of the details for the future of this story beyond a couple of scenes.**

 **Guest(14a/11): She didn't before, I don't imagine she will this time.**

 **Guest(14b/11): Those incidents have either happened or been rendered non-happening by the butterfly effect of Max getting shot.**

 **A Reader: Good to see you again, I hope this chapter lives up to the hype you feel. I'm sorry it wasn't exactly soon.**

 **Guest(15/11): Thank you.**

* * *

As we approach the diner, Chloe's truck suddenly starts making strange noises. She slams her hand on the dashboard.

"Shit!"

"What's the matter?"

"Truck's ran out of gas."

"Didn't you know you were running low?"

"Fuel gauge is fucked." She gestures at a the dial on the dashboard. The glass covering is broken, and the needle is missing completely. Cursing under her breath, Chloe cuts the ignition and rolls her truck into the gas station across the road from the diner. She stops next to one of the pumps and climbs out.

"You go to the diner," She says, "Get us a table and some food. I'll have the bacon omelette, you'll probably have the Belgian waffles."

I smile, she remembers my addiction to those things. "Of course. Can't go to the Two Whales without having the waffles."

She scoffs, "Yeah, whatever. Bacon or die."

I shake my head as I turn to leave. Chloe goes to the pump and starts filling her truck.

Stepping inside the Two Whales is like going back in time, again. It still looks the same as it did five years ago. Suddenly it as though reality shifts, the diner is still there, but it is overlaid with the sounds of wind and rain. I can see bodies lying on the floor and there are holes in the roof , but they are ethereal, almost like they're not real. Just as suddenly as it arrived, the sensation passes. I feel light-headed and stagger. I am caught by a police officer who was sitting at the bar. He is not the same one who was sitting here last time I came through.

"You okay there, young lady?" There is a note of concern in his voice.

"Just a little light-headed." I lie, "Haven't eaten in a while and need some food." He takes my story at face value but insists on helping me to a window booth. He returns to his spot at the bar and I think about what just happened. What I saw was the diner from the storm, I know it was. What is happening? Is that reality trying to reassert itself, or am I just losing it? I hear my name and jump slightly.

"Easy there, Max." It's Joyce, still looking the same way she always has in my memories. "You looked like you were spacing out there, and officer Jenkins said you needed some food. What'll it be?"

I smile at her. "Honestly, Joyce, I haven't had a decent Belgian waffle since the last time I was here five years ago."

She smiles back, "I can fix that for you."

I remember Chloe, "And Chloe would like a bacon omelette."

She sighs, "Of course she would. I swear that girl's blown her entire college fund on her tab here. But you don't need to hear my complaining, not while you're hungry."

Joyce headed behind the counter to begin preparing the waffles and omelette.

A few minutes later, Joyce was back, a heaped plate of Belgian waffles and a noticeably smaller plate of omelette in her hands. She placed the food on the table. "So how've you been Max?"

"I've been good, Joyce."

"Even with the you know..." she motions to my chest, "the shooting?"

I shrug slightly, "It was a shock, I'll admit."

"Not something you expect to hear about in a small town like this." She pauses, "But in the scale of things recently..." I understand what she means.

"I don't think anyone would have expected that, anywhere." I say.

"I suppose you're right. Chloe was in shock when she called me. All I could out of her was that someone called Max had been shot in the toilets. I'll be honest, I didn't realise she was talking about you at first." She sighs, "I have to say though, I sure am glad you're here. It'll be good for Chloe to have a friend again."

"I know things were hard for the two of you, and I'm so sorry I didn't call."

"You did the right thing. Moved on with our life. I did after, after William passed on. Chloe just got angry, and she stayed angry. I was glad to hear that you were staying in Arcadia Bay even after everything that happened. I was hoping that you could maybe be a good influence on Chloe."

"I will be. Promise."

The sound of the door swinging open just a little bit more violently than necessary draws Joyce's attention.

"And speak of the devil."

Chloe saunters up to us. "Mom and Max, together again."

"And Chloe looking for a free meal." The sensation of deja vu comes over me again. But is it really deja vu if I actually _have_ experienced this exact situation before?

Chloe and Joyce continue to argue about David in the background, although I notice that Chloe doesn't seem quite as vehement about David as she did in the previous timeline. The argument ends and Chloe flops down in the seat opposite me and begins picking at her omelette. She looks up and realises that I have more on my plate than she does and promptly steals a waffle.

"Hey! What happened to bacon or die?"

"I have bacon," She says around a mouthful of stolen waffle, gesturing to her plate, "I'm covered."

"You stole my waffle."

She pokes her tongue out at me, "Come over here and take it back."

I just shake my head at her behaviour.

We eat in silence for a while before Chloe speaks again. "So, I noticed that you don't have your camera with you."

I shrug, "It broke when I dropped it in the toilets. I've been borrowing one from Blackwell, but I'm not allowed to take it off campus."

"That sucks. Hey, I know it was your birthday last month." She reaches for a box that I didn't notice her bring into the diner. "And this thing's just been sitting in my drawer, gathering dust." She places the box on the table. I already know what is inside it. She opens the box, "I'm certainly not going to be using it anytime soon, and my dad would be pissed if it never got used."

"Chloe, are you sure? I mean..."

She pushes the box towards me, "Take it you doofus, go out inhe world and take some hella awesome pictures with it."

"Chloe, thank you. This camera is sweet." I turn it around and point it at her. "Smile." She grins and flicks a vague peace sign at the camera, then sticks her tongue out at the last moment.

"Chloe!"

She laughs "Damn, it's good to have you back, Max."

"It's good to be back Chloe."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Still here. Still writing.**

 **Grumpycat42: I haven't read any of the other 'after' stories so I wouldn't know if this is common or not. My Max is a little bit scared of her powers by the end of the game's story. I'm glad that you like my writing style, and I do intend to go on.**

 **Guest(5/12): And it updates again, eventually.**

 **Pgtdd: And thank _you_ for telling me that you love it.**

 **n1bro: Thank you, and I aim to try to continue writing. Unfortunately I've got exams coming up in January so updates may be sporadic until after that.**

 **BATWIX: I'm glad you think this is great. I do intend for Chloe to find out about the time travel and the parallel timelines, to what extent is unsure yet. She could just find out the basics of it. i.e. it's a thing that happened, tornado, shooting. Or she could get the whole nine yards, not sure yet.**

* * *

I still find it strange how life continues on. In the last week or so, Arcadia Bay has seen a shooting at the school, the unmasking of a teacher as psychopathic killer, a suicide, and a scandal that has rocked the town's wealthiest, and formerly most-respected family and could potentially lead to said family's collapse. Despite all of this, everything continues. The only indicators that anything has happened is the gossip in the school. The teachers say nothing, they believe that if they ignore it, the students will stop. Walking down the corridors is all I need to know that they were wrong. Students have hushed conversations between lessons, the ones that quiet when I pass are obviously about me. They look at me when they think I can't see them and continue to whisper when they think I can't hear them.

I don't care. The stories they tell can't hurt me. Won't lead to cruel, hurtful insults written on the slate outside my door, and at the same time they deflect any lingering attention away from Kate. _Who cares about the girl that did stupid shit at a party, that girl over there got shot!_ Victoria did make a half-hearted attempt to try to bring the whole Kate thing back to everyone's attention, but was quickly shushed when people reminded her about Mark Jefferson's involvement.

Apparently Victoria was selected as Blackwell's entry for the everyday heroes contest. It makes sense, she did win when I didn't enter the contest in other timelines. Alyssa is sporting an unappealing blotchy purple bruise on her cheek, likely from being hit by a flying object. I feel bad that I wasn't there to help her.

The big story that everyone is talking about is Mr Jefferson and the dark room. When I hear people talking about the things he did it feels as though I am back there. I put my earphones in and try to block it all out. I don't remember everything that happened there, and I don't want to. I am so focussed on not remembering that I don't see Brooke until I walk into her.

"Hey! Watch where you're going."

"Sorry."

Her tone changes slightly when she sees who has walked into her. "Oh, it's you." There is a gleam in her eyes, it looks almost, victorious?

"Sorry Brooke, I was miles away."

"Clearly you weren't miles away from walking into me." She says sarcastically.

"I'm really sorry."

She rolls her eyes, "Fine, I accept your apology. Now, I gotta go, I'm meeting Warren in less than ten minutes." Her eyes gleam again and I realise why. She thinks she has won Warren from me. She doesn't know that there was never really a competition, at least, not in the way she thinks. Sure, Warren was crushing on me hard, but I was never interested in Warren that way, either before, or after, Chloe.

"Have a good time." I tell her. I briefly consider taking out my camera and snapping a photo of the expression on her face. I can see her mind running at a thousand miles an hour trying to work out if I'm being genuine, or if I'm messing with her. I continue walking before she says anything else.

Further down the corridor, I see Taylor leaning against the wall, staring at her phone. I ask her about her mother. She seems surprised that I know, even more so that I care. I tell her that I overheard someone, I think it might have been Victoria, mentioning it, and that I wanted to know if Taylor was alright. She seems a little embarrased. "My mother was in hospital for back surgery. No one gave a shit apart from Victoria... and now you, I guess." She stops talking for a moment. "I don't know what you think about me Max, but I'm not about tearing people down. At least, I try not to be." She shrugs one shoulder, "The way I behaved about Kate probably makes it harder for you to believe me. And I haven't been too great to you either, I suppose."

I smile slightly, "Perhaps we should start again?"

She returns the smile, almost shyly. "I think perhaps we should."

I stick my hand out, "Hello, my name's Max Caulfield, and you are?"

She looks down at my hand and snorts in amusement when she realises I'm making a joke. She takes my hand and shakes it. "Hello Max, I'm Taylor. Pleased to meet you."

She holds her expression for all of ten seconds before we both break into laughter at how stupid we're both being. "You're not as weird as I thought you were Max, I'll see you around." She turns and leaves.

In the courtyard outside the school, I see a newspaper lying on one of the benches. The visible article talks about an apparent suicide in which an Arcadia Bay resident was found in his RV having apparently overdosed on various narcotics. The paramedics apparently pronounced him dead on arrival. The accompanying photo is one of Frank in the Two Whales diner. I feel bad that Rachel Amber's death pushed him to suicide, he wasn't the nicest man in the world, but I wouldn't have wished him dead. It is less than comforting that I suddenly realise that Chloe might easily have gone the same way if not for me and Joyce. I feel a sudden urge to call her and hear her voice. I take out my phone and dial her number.

"Hey! It's SpiderMax."

"Hey, Chloe."

"So what do you want? No, let me guess. You're taking photos and need me to model for you."

"Chloe-"

"Nude."

Whatever I was going to say next dies in my throat as my mind is assailed by the image of Chloe posing naked. The image is subsequently ruined by the sounds of Chloe dying of laughter on the other end of the line.

"Not funny Chloe."

"It is funny Max. It is hella funny."

"You're impossible."

"That's me. Chloe Price, the impossible girl. Seriously though, what did you want?"

"I just wanted to, you know, hang out."

"Yeah, okay. You at the school? I'll come pick you up."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:Chapter 8 is here people. I am thinking that I should probably replay the game in order to get more inspiration. Youtube videos only go so far. However, I think that some of you will like this chapter.**

 **Also, this now has one hundred followers, my first story to do that, and twice as many followers as the closest one. Thank you all so much.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Yeah, I sort of got the feeling from talking to him that Rachel was pretty much his world. When I played the game he carried on(I think) because he could help Chloe and Max track down her killer and get a sort of vengeance, without that, he's got nothing. You have a point about Brooke and Stella. Brooke is just a little bit blinkered because she saw Warren's attraction to Max and assumed it was returned. This chapter disproves that idea a little bit.**

 **Grumpycat42: Yes I did, just need some more motivation. I also would like to know where this story goes. It does not exist until I write it, mostly.**

 **Guest(21/12): Yes it does.**

* * *

Chloe is already waiting in the parking lot when I arrive. Once again she is leaning against her truck, smoking. As I draw closer she smiles and drops her cigarette on the floor.

"Hey, Max. What's up? You sounded worried on the phone." There is a mild note of concern in her voice.

"It's nothing." I tell her, lying through my teeth because what's the alternative? Tell her I was worried about her committing suicide because I read a newspaper article about a man who I shouldn't even know about the existence of, nevermind the connections between him, Rachel and Chloe. "I just wanted to see you. Start making up for lost time."

"Damn straight." She laughs, "Five years is a hella long time to make up for. You'd better get started."

"So what do you want to do?" I ask her, "I don't even know what you do for fun now."

Chloe grins, "The shit _I_ do for fun, is not the sort of thing _you_ do for fun." She pauses, "Maybe we just go back to mine. Step-douche isn't there at the moment, and mom's been dropping hints about wanting to see me spend more time with you since she found out you woke up at the hospital."

"Yours sounds good." I agree.

"Cool. Now let's clear off before Officer Douchebag shows up."

The drive to Chloe's house is short and uneventful. Her truck does not run out of fuel, nothing breaks down, and she doesn't clip any other vehicles. She parks up in front of the garage. By the time I have climbed out of the truck, Chloe has already opened her front door. She shouts inside for her mom, casually informing Joyce that she has brought me home with her. When I enter the house, Joyce sticks her head out of the kitchen to greet me, drying a plate in her hands as she does so.

"Max! How've you been? It's good to see you again so soon." I can hear the relief in her voice that I appear to be living up to the promise I made in the diner. "I assume that you'll be staying for dinner?"

"I don't want to be any trouble Joyce."

She scoffs, "It'll be no trouble at all, Max." She points up the stairs. "I think Chloe's gone to her room."

I suppress an urge to check the fireplace in the living room for my butterfly graffiti and instead head up the stairs and enter Chloe's room. Upon entering the room it feels as though reality shifts as it did in the diner. The cork board from when we were trying to track Nathan Prescott suddenly appears in the room, photos and sheets of paper tacked to it and strewn around it. I need to snap out of it. I need to focus on what is real. I focus on Chloe, suddenly there are two of her, one lying on the bed, one hunched over in the chair. I focus on the bed Chloe, I know that she is the real one. The cork board, evidence and other Chloe shimmer and disappear.

The real Chloe doesn't seem to have noticed my lapse in concentration, a fact that I attribute to the lit joint in her hand. Fortunately she has opened both her windows, so the smell is not overpowering.

"Hey, Max."

I waft a hand in front of my nose to get rid of the worst of the smell. "Chloe, what are you doing?"

"Grass, I'm doing grass Max." She makes a gesture with the thumb and index finger of her free hand held close together, "Only a little bit though, I don't want Mom or step-douche finding out." She shrugs. "Hey, could you put some music on for me? There should be a CD around here somewhere."

I know exactly where the CD is, so this time I don't have to spend several minutes searching the tip that is Chloe's room. I pull the metal box from under the bed and retrieve the CD. As I do I see the same photo, feather, change and postcard as before. This time however, Chloe rolls over on the bed and points at the photo.

"That's her, that's Rachel." There is sadness in her voice again. "Happier times."

"Clearly." I say, indicating Chloe's extended middle finger in the photograph, and the mildly pissed off expression on her face.

"That was happy."

"Riiight. I believe you Chloe."

She puts the photo back in the box and slides it under her bed again. "Come on hippie, let's have some music."

I put the CD in the hi-fi and the same song plays. This is too much deja vu for me, at least Chloe won't tell me to go look for tools to fix my camera this time. Instead, she stubs out her joint in the ashtray and motions for me to lie on the bed next to her. We lie there in a companionable silence for a moment until I am suddenly possessed by the overwhelming urge to pee. I tell Chloe that I am going to use the bathroom. She mumbles something and I realise that she has fallen asleep.

I am washing my hands when I hear the sound of Chloe dying of laughter coming from her room. When I enter I see that she is sitting up on the bed, reading my journal.

"Hey! Give me that!" I chase Chloe around the bed, she holds my journal out of my reach, making good use of her height advantage. She laughs as she reads and comments on one of the earlier entries.

"'Nobody will know me except for Chloe and who knows how different we are now.' - Hella different. 'So I can cut my hair, get a tat.'" She breaks down laughing again, and I take the opportunity to snatch the book off her.

"Stop going through my things, Chloe."

Chloe is still dying. "Max, you'd never get piercings or tattoos. When was the last time you did something daring or adventurous."

"I could to." I tell her, trying to keep a straight face, "I am plenty daring and adventurous."

She laughs again, "Keep telling yourself that hippie. Why don't you do something daring right now?"

"Like what?" I ask, hoping that this is going where I think it is going.

Chloe pauses for a moment, "Okay, I dare you to kiss me." She grins, clearly expecting to have stumped me. I smile at her and lean forward, raising up on to my toes in order to reach, I place one hand on her cheek, and my lips firmly on hers. Chloe doesn't react for a second, clearly shocked beyond all reason that I have actually kissed her. Eventually she pulls back.

"Damn, Max. I wasn't expecting that, maybe you-" She stops. I don't know why, maybe she felt something, or saw something, I don't know. "Oh." She says.

"Oh what?" I ask, nervously.

"Max," She says, "do you, I mean, do you _like_ me?"

* * *

 **A/N: Cliffhanger! What does everyone think of this? Please let me know with your reviews. Feel free to ask any questions you may have, if I don't intend to answer them in story, I will answer them in the notes. Thank you.**

 **Also, if anyone would like to point out any grammatical/spelling mistakes in any chapters, please send me a PM about it, that would also be greatly appreciated.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Don't expect this to happen again anytime soon. I just had a great deal of inspiration for this chapter. This is my first time writing a scene like this first one.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: And begin it does.**

 **Vemilyus: This is how I try to quench that profound sadness. Two days isn't long, right? Also, I'm hella glad that you like this story and took the time to tell me that you do.**

 **Rayne Arianna Maranochi: I'm glad you think it's good. Chloe is being just a little bit slow on the uptake here.**

 **Sexytime: Kind of.**

 **Pgtdd: Glad you love the story. I make no apologies for my cliffhangers. Ever.**

* * *

I am put on the spot. I am unsure of how to respond. Should I tell her? What if everything's moving too fast and she pushes me away? I don't want to lose her. I can't lie to her though, Chloe is very good at sniffing out bullshit. I open my mouth to speak, and close it again. Chloe is looking at me expectantly. "Yes." I finally say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, I like you, Chloe." She seems to be shocked, I feel compelled to continue, to give some sort of explanation. I start rambling. "You're brilliant, and funny, and beautiful, and-" I am cut off as she steps closer to me and places a finger against my lips. She smiles at me. It is a small smile, but it seems more honest, more pure, than any other expression I have seen on her face. Her hand moves from my lips to cup my cheek. When she speaks her voice is low.

"Shut up and kiss me, hippie."

I can do that. Our lips meet again, and this time, Chloe is not surprised and passive. The hand on my cheek moves to rest gently on the back of my head, the fingers running through my hair. Her other hand snakes around my body to rest on the small of my back. My own hands have not remained idle, moving to hold Chloe, one on her shoulder, the other mirroring the hand on my back. I feel Chloe's mouth open, and I open mine in response. I can taste the almost sickly-sweet drugs on her breath, but I don't care. Chloe moves into me and I feel the edge of her bed hitting the backs of my knees. I go over backwards and Chloe falls with me. We hit the bed and the kiss breaks. Chloe steadies herself with the hand that was behind my head, I arch my back slightly to free the hand that is trapped there. Chloe looks down at me. She is not panting, but her breathing is definitely heavier than it was. I find myself similarly breathless. "Wow." She says. I agree with the sentiment. She does not seem to be about to say anything else, so I reach up to her. She smiles as I pull her back down to me.

I can feel her body on top of me, warm and soft. My left hand decides that it would quite like to explore and slides its way down Chloe's back. She gasps slightly as it slides down the back of her jeans, giving my tongue the perfect opening. I push my tongue into her mouth, just as she begins to pull the hem of my shirt up. I am vaguely aware of the door opening.

"Girls, I've been calling you for- Oh!"

Joyce stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open.

"Mom!" Chloe is first to respond, pulling her face away from mine. "This isn't... Okay, this is exactly what it looks like."

I can feel my cheeks burning as Joyce looks at us both, Chloe trying very hard not to look pleased with herself, and me on my back, face red from embarrassment and breathing heavily. "I see." Joyce is voice and face are completely unreadable. She takes a deep breath. "Dinner's ready and waiting for you on the table downstairs." The door closes behind her. Everything is quiet for a moment before Chloe bursts out laughing. Rolling off me, she lies on the bed, tears streaming down her face, rendered immobile by her hysterics.

"Chloe! This isn't funny!"

"But it is!" She manages to get out between bouts of laughter, "Did you not see my mom's face? I haven't seen her look that shocked in ages." The laughter slowly gives way to great, heaving breaths.

"Chloe! Stop it! Are you not even vaguely embarrassed that," I wave my hand in the direction of the door, "Joyce saw us?"

She looks me straight in the eye, "Nope. I have got nothing to be embarrassed about, and neither do you." She must sense my uncertainty, "Do you?" She asks, a note of, fear? In her voice.

"It's not that," I try to reassure her, "It's just that this is all so new to me."

The fear is gone. "Are you telling me that I'm your first girlfriend?" She asks.

"Is that what we are?" I reply.

"I don't know, is it?"

"I-I'd like to be, yes."

"Then we are." Chloe sounds certain. "So, first girlfriend?"

"First anything." I tell her, and instantly realise my mistake. Chloe has a predatory look in her eyes.

"Awwwww." She says, in an almost baby-like voice, "Is wittle Maxxy a virgin?" She pinches my cheek, "Oh yes she is, yes she is."

"Knock it off Chloe." I cuff her gently round the back of the head. She laughs again. I love the sound of it, probably my favourite noise that she makes.

Chloe suddenly bounces off the bed. "Come on, let's go get food, I'm starving." She pauses, "You might want to splash some water on your face, it's a bit red."

Chloe waits for me outside the bathroom. Once I exit, she turns and I follow her down the stairs. When we enter the kitchen, Joyce is sitting at the table along with three plates of bacon, eggs and what I like to call 'miscellaneous veg'. Chloe turns and winks at me, before I can process what this means, she begins speaking. "Mom, this is Max, my girlfriend." I cover my face with a hand and shake my head as she turns to me. "Max, this is Joyce, my Mom." Glancing up, I see that Joyce is wearing an expression of amused disbelief and Chloe is grinning. Well, I've already done this with Taylor, might as well try it again.

"Nice to meet you Joyce," I say, trying not to show the sheer amount of butterflies in my stomach, "Chloe's told me a lot about you." Chloe's grin widens and Joyce looks even more confused.

"Yes, girls." Joyce says, having realised what's happening, "I know who Max is. I just wasn't expecting to see the two of you..."

Any further immediate awkwardness is disrupted by Chloe's declaration of "Ooooh. Bacon." She slides into one of the chairs and begins happily tucking in. I sit down next to, glancing sheepishly at Joyce.

"Chloe, if you steal my food again..." I warn her. Her only response is a single finger.

"Chloe! Manners."

Chloe swallows what's in her mouth, "Sorry, Mom."

Joyce looks at me, "So, how long has this been..." Her voice trails off and Chloe answers.

"About ten minutes."

Joyce looks mildly taken aback. "So that was?"

"Max's first kiss." Chloe teases, "Well, second, technically."

Try fourth, I think to myself. Not that anyone could possibly remember the first two because they haven't happened yet. Or is that, they haven't happened in this timeline? This reality? Time travel is confusing.

"I see. Well, I'm not going to judge. I just hope you both know what you're doing."

So do I, Joyce. So do I.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Please continue to leave review telling me what you think of the story, and what you think could be improved.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And here's chapter 10.**

 **Awkward conversations galore.**

 **Grumpycat42: The reason why Max is such a good kisser is part instinct, part Chloe leading, and mostly an interest in rom-coms and terrible romance novels that she will never admit to anyone.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: It's an awkward situation for everyone involved... apart from Chloe.**

 **Vemilyus: That was confusing. There will be no shatting of bricks, no ominous lightning, not yet, anyway.**

 **Guest(6/1): Thank you, I will try to.**

 **Pgtdd: Yay Pricefield.**

 **Fritz: Thank you. Greetings to you, Brazilian follower.**

 **Charles the Second: I feel that this story has quite a bit of steam left in it yet. When I feel that it has reached the end I will make it very clear in the author's notes.**

* * *

Joyce's cooking, as always, is amazing. The bacon and the eggs, even the miscellaneous veg quickly disappearing off the plates. Once she finishes her food, Chloe pulls a disappearing act of her own, leaving me to help Joyce clear the table. For the first time, standing next to Joyce feels awkward, I wonder what would have happened if she had walked in five minutes later, how far would we have gone? We don't talk, instead setting up a system, she washes the plates, I dry them. As she hands me the final plate, she sighs and turns to me.

"Are you sure about this Max?" She asks, "About what you're getting yourself into, I mean. These last five years have changed Chloe. She's not the same person she was before."

"I know that, Joyce."

"Are you quite sure that you do Max? Are you sure that you know what you're letting yourself in for? I love my daughter, but she can be- is, difficult. If you're going to get involved with Chloe, you're going to be involved with all of her issues and all of her baggage as well. So I'll ask you again Max, are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

"Yes, Joyce, I am." Of course I am. Over the last week, I've seen all of Chloe's weaknesses. I've had them off-loaded onto me. I've had them screamed at me. I've listened to her, counselled her through it. And she doesn't remember any of it. I know about Chloe's issues better than anyone could possibly suspect I do.

Joyce gives a sigh of relief. "Good. That's. I just want my baby to be happy, and the way she was behaving just now is the happiest I've seen her since, well since before William..."

"I understand, Joyce."

She smiles, "Okay Max. I believe you, and I'll stop having this conversation with you. You go out there, you make Chloe happy, but remember to be happy yourself. If Chloe is upsetting you, you let me know and I will ground her ass so fast she won't know what hit her."

I smile nervously, "I'm sure it won't come to that, Joyce."

Joyce makes a noise that sounds non-committal. "Here's hoping."

The front door opens. I glance out into the hallway and see David Madsen taking off his jacket.

"Joyce. I'm home."

"David. I'm in the kitchen."

He looks up and sees me standing there.

"Oh. It's you." There is none of the expected accusation in his voice. The David of the previous timeline wasn't very happy to see me in his house the first time we met. This David seems different.

I suddenly panic. If David is different, what else have I changed?

He approaches and speaks to me, quietly. There is a note of sympathy in his voice. "I know what it's like to be shot." He says, "If you need someone to talk to about it..." I realise that he has not changed, I have, and as such his view of, and behaviour towards me have changed accordingly. Where before our interactions were those of heavy-handed school security officer and wrongly-suspicious teenager, now he sees me as someone who needs help that he, and perhaps only he, might be able to offer.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr Madsen, but I'm fine, really."

He doesn't appear convinced. "Okay, but if you're ever not fine."

"David, shhh. Max doesn't need to be reminded of that." David turns to Joyce and hugs her. "You remember Max, don't you?" Joyce continues, "Well, she and Chloe-" I make frantic motions behind David's back, shaking my head and drawing my hand across my throat. He may have changed, but I still highly doubt that he will straight-off approve of me and Chloe. Fortunately, Joyce is quick on the uptake, "-were best friends when they were younger." I shoot her a quick thumbs-up. David nods.

"Makes sense." He turns back to me, "The way she panicked when she was in the toilets. I swear that's the only time I've spent any time in a room with her and she hasn't started swearing at me."

"David!" Joyce's voice is reproachful, "Now, you know that's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"We are _not_ having this argument now, David." Joyce's tone is final, clearly she wants to shield me from the internal politics of her dysfunctional family. Again, I already know far more than she suspects. David grunts and shrugs, then turns back to me. "Shouldn't you be heading back to Blackwell?" The security guard persona is now firmly back in place. "If you miss the bus, you'll get caught by the night shift."

I check the time on my phone and see that David is right, it is getting late. I still have plenty of time before Blackwell's curfew comes into effect, but it is definitely getting late, and I should probably be leaving to head back to my dorm.

"I'll just go and say goodbye to Chloe." I say, before heading up the stairs. Chloe is lying on her bed, doodling something on a notepad. She hasn't heard me enter. I sneak up behind her.

"What're you drawing?" I ask, loudly. She practically jumps off the bed.

"Max!" I try to reach across her to get a look at the picture, but she holds it out of my reach.

"Hey, you read my diary. It's only fair."

Chloe is, blushing? "Max, I swear I'll show it to you when it's finished, but not now, okay?"

Part of me wants to tease her about it, to find out, but another part of me respects her privacy, far more so than she does mine. "Okay." I tell her. "But you'd better show it to me."

"Sure, Max."

"I've got to go." I tell her. "Need to get back to Blackwell before curfew."

She drops the notepad on the floor, making sure it lands face-down. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Tomorrow. I promise."

She stands and kisses me. It is not as involved or as passionate as the kiss that Joyce interrupted earlier, but it still gives me a little rush. There is a slight look of longing in her eyes as I leave. I go down the stairs, bid goodbye to Joyce and head down the street to the bus stop. Inside, I am dancing. I told Chloe that I love her, and she returned my feelings. The whole thing with Joyce was incredibly awkward, but in the end, Joyce seemed to be okay with it. I am not looking forward to telling David about this. That reminds me that _my_ parents have absolutely no idea that I'm even into girls, nevermind that I have a girlfriend now.

* * *

 **A/N: Trying to show a slightly lighter/softer side of David. In the game he speaks frequently about his service in the army, in a war. Is it illogical to assume that he was perhaps shot, maybe a little bit of PTSD perhaps? In this fic, David knows what it is like to be shot and wants to offer what support he can to someone else who is going through something he has.**

 **As always, continue to read, review and support this fic, and ask any questions you may have. Thank you.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay people, my exams are now over, so this _should_ be updated a bit more regularly.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Maybe both? We will find out eventually.**

 **Vemilyus: I think that David's reaction will depend on how/if I develop his relationship with Max before he finds out. I can understand being in a bad place mentally after the ending to this game.**

 **GrumpyCat42: I imagine that it's not the first time Joyce has had this conversation. Who knows what Chloe was doodling? I certainly don't.**

 **Charles the Second: Thank you**

 **Fritz: Thank you**

 **Ark Demon Souls: Thank you**

 **I just want to say, this chapter presented several difficulties to me. First of all, as a British person, do you have any idea how difficult it is to constantly write 'Mom' in a story? Secondly, I have no idea what distances are like in America, that scale just boggles me, fortunately google maps is quite useful in that regard. Thirdly, the scene/premise that this chapter revolves around is not something I have any personal experience with, so I apologise if it comes off weird. If any of you do have personal experience with this and want to give me advice, I welcome it.**

 **As usual, please continue to read and review, and if you see any grammatical errors, please let me know.**

* * *

 **EDIT 11/02/16: Fixed problem as brought up by reviewer darquan0 regarding Max's parents not recognising Chloe.**

 **EDIT 15/02/16: Fixed problem missed by previous edit.**

 **EDIT 21/03/16: Max's parents now call her by the versions of her name that they use in the game.**

* * *

"Are you ready for this, spidermax?" Chloe asks me.

"Not even a little bit." I tell her.

We are sitting in her truck on the curb of one of the streets of one of Seattle's various suburbs. On the surface, near-identical to any other street in the suburb, this street is important because it's where my parents live. We had arrived later in the day than initially planned because Chloe got lost, twice. But as she had so succinctly put it, 'learn to drive first hippie, then complain.' Chloe had been impressed and slightly awed by the size and blatant expense of the houses we had passed, making a comment about how her truck was probably lowering property values just by being in the neighbourhood.

"How difficult can it be?" She says, counting the proposed steps off on her fingers. "I pull into the driveway, making sure not to hit your parents' car. You ring the doorbell, they answer. You put up with the inevitable hug. 'Mom, Dad, I'm gay, and this is my girlfriend." She pauses, "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Chloe, this is a big deal for me."

Chloe clearly picks up on the note of panic in my voice, because she places her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a one-armed hug. "Hey. You've got me with you. Chloe and Max, together nothing can stop us." She places a kiss on my forehead, "Besides, your parents are cool, even if they did steal you from me for five years, it'll be fine."

She releases my shoulder and turns the key in the ignition, her truck sputtering to life. Looking around the street, I say a couple of curtains twitch at the sound. Chloe pulls into the drive, coming up behind Mom's Audi.

I inhale deeply, "Well this is it."

"Come on, Max." Chloe has already jumped out of the truck and is halfway to the door.

Now that we are here, standing outside my parents house, I am suddenly nervous and unsure that this was quite as good an idea as it seemed when I was discussing it with Chloe via text from my dorm room. Chloe on the other hand has no such compunctions, and leans forward to ring the doorbell.

"Chloe!"

She shrugs, "You would have been standing there for ages otherwise."

I am about to continue the argument when the door opens.

"Max?"

I turn around, "Hey, Dad." Then I have the air squeezed out of me as Dad envelops me in a crushing bear hug. "Dad. Breathing. Air." Fortunately, he realises what he's doing.

"Sorry, kiddo. I'm just happy to see you. And you brought Chloe." He says, finally noticing Chloe standing there, looking slightly awkward.

"Hey, Mr Caulfield. Actually, I brought her."

Dad looks over her shoulder at her truck, "Well, that answers the question of how you got here." He pauses. "Right. Well, come in both of you, don't just stand out there."

We follow my Dad into the house and hear my Mom's voice calling from one of the other rooms.

"Ryan, who is it?"

"It's Max." My Dad calls back, "And she brought Chloe with her."

"I brought her." Chloe mutters under her breath, "How hard is that to understand?"

"Max?" My mother's sigh is clearly audible even from the hall. "You know her name is Maxine, Ryan."

"Yes." My Dad replies, "and she prefers to be called Max, so that's what we should call her."

Chloe looks at me, "They're still having this argument?"

I shrug, "Every time my name is mentioned, it seems."

My Mom enters the hallway. "Maxine!" She spreads her arms and envelops me in a significantly less rib-crushing than the one Dad had already subjected me to. I hear her speaking over my shoulder. "Hello Chloe." Mom releases me. "You must both be hungry." She turns away from me, "I'll fix you something to eat."

I follow her into the kitchen. I take a deep breath. "Mom. There's something I need to tell you and Dad. Something important."

Mom turns back to look at me, "You're pregnant?"

"What?"

Mom ignores me, "Ryan!" She calls out into the hall, "Maxine is pregnant!"

I hear the sound that I know precludes one of Chloe's laughing fits. Dad enters the kitchen.

"Max, you're pregnant?"

"No!" I say, "No! Definitely not pregnant. Being pregnant is not something I have to worry about." I hear Chloe snorting as she tries desperately not to laugh.

"Are you being bullied at school?" Dad asks.

"No."

"Are you sick?" Mom asks.

"No."

"Are you-"

"I'm gay!" I shout, interrupting whatever else my Mom was about to suggest. I take a deep breath. "I'm gay." I say, more quietly this time.

There is silence in the house, even Chloe's laughing fit has subsided before it truly began.

"Oh." Dad says, "That explains the not worrying about pregnancy."

"Ryan!" Mom hisses, "Jokes? Really?" Then to me, "Are you sure Maxine? I mean you never gave any indication that you, that you liked girls?"

"Yes, I'm sure." I tell her, "I have a girlfriend."

"A girlfriend?" Mom repeats my words sounding slightly dazed.

Chloe perks up at this point. "Girlfriend. Yes. That's me. I'm Max's girlfriend. Hello."

Mom turns to looks at her, then back to me. "You, and Chloe?"

"Me and Chloe." I confirm.

"I see." She says. "I'm sorry, I..." She walks out of the room into the lounge. I feel a sudden panic that maybe my Mom isn't going to approve of this. I look over to Chloe seeking reassurance and see that she looks almost as uncertain as I feel. Dad, on the other hand steps over to me, and hugs me again, more gently than before. I hug back, feeling an almost desperate need for parental affirmation.

"Don't worry kiddo, your mother just needs some time to adjust." He whispers in my ear. "She still loves you, as do I, regardless of whether you like girls or boys." I hold on to him tighter as he pats me reassuringly on the back.

"Thanks, Dad." I whisper.

"Don't mention it." He lets go, "I'll just go and talk to your mother, leave you alone with your girlfriend." He looks over at Chloe before heading to the living room after Mom.

"So." Chloe says, "That went well."

Before I can say anything Mom and Dad return from the living room.

"Max." Mom says, "First off, I want to apologise for reacting how I did, you probably need support right now, and what I did probably didn't help in any way, I'm sorry." She takes a breath, "I have to admit that while I'm not completely on board with the idea, this is who you are and there's no changing that. And I love you just as much – okay?"

"Okay." I say, my heart having descended somewhat from my mouth. "Okay."

* * *

 **A/N: What did you think?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Bit of a short chapter, this one. But I think that you'll like it. Maybe.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: When your teenage daughter who lives away from home tells you she has something important to tell you, I imagine that pregnancy would probably be the first thought.**

 **Rayne Ariana Maranochi: I'm at that stage myself, haven't told my parents because I live away from home and think it needs to be done face to face.**

 **Phoenix0899: Damn. That's pretty high praise, I hope I continue to live up to it. Pricefield talks and snuggles coming up.**

 **Aaron Leach: Thank you.**

 **HollyToney: Thank you, I'm glad to have been a source of inspiration. I will read your story as soon as I can get some time to do so.**

 **Charles the Second: Thank you.**

 **aimeekiwi93: The short chapters are to prevent storydeath. Seattle is about three weeks after butterfly, two weeks after waking up in hospital. So the Saturday before Halloween.**

 **Darquan0: Good point, I missed that. I had to correct it. Twice. Thank you.**

 **Fritz: Max's mom is mildly religious. Nowhere near the level of Kate's family, not enough to be outright homophobic, but enough for Max being gay to slightly 'jar' her view of reality. It's mostly surprise really.**

 **Shippy(1): Thank you**

 **Shippy(2): Here is MOAR, as you put it.**

 **Just as a final note, most of you will probably be aware of this, but for those that aren't: Reviews can really help an author's motivation. We get no financial gain from this, we sustain ourselves entirely on positive feedback. Critical feedback helps us improve ourselves and our stories. Thank you all so much for your support and advice. I hope that you will continue to read, enjoy and in turn review my work. As you may have noticed, I make a point of replying to each and every review, even if just a 'thank you' to let reviewers know that their feedback is appreciated.**

* * *

"This house is hella big." Chloe says, flopping down on the couch to my life. "Like, big enough to park a car in."

"Chloe, what did you do?" A note of concern enters my voice. Chloe hardly helps assuage my fears when she looks away, embarrassed. She mumbles something under her breath. "What was that?" I say, fairly confident that I have heard her, but looking for confirmation anyway. She refuses to meet my eye.

"I got lost looking for the bathroom."

"And where did you end up?"

"Your parents room."

"What? That's nowhere near the bathroom."

"I didn't know that, did I?" She sighs, "Your Dad was in there, and he tried to give me 'the talk'."

"'the talk'?" I ask, the only 'talk' I can think of is the one Mom gave me when I was thirteen, having read in some parenting newsletter or other that this was the appropriate age to broach such a subject with your child. That talk had turned out to be largely unnecessary, not that either of us had known it at the time, some of it was still applicable, but the majority had relied on the premise that I would be bringing a boy home.

"Yeah, the 'you hurt my daughter and I hurt you' talk." She grins at me, "I don't think he knew what he was doing, was only doing it because he'd seen it on TV, and I definitely don't think he was expecting to have to have it with a girl."

"Oh, god." I say, covering my face with one hand.

"Funny," Chloe says, "I was expecting you to be wearing less clothing when I made you say that."

I am mortified, and can feel my face reddening behind my hand.

Chloe simply laughs, and places her arm around my shoulders, "You know you're adorable when you're blushing?"

"Shut up." I tell her.

"Hey, everything worked out. I told your Dad that I have no intention of doing anything to upset or hurt you. Mostly because I'm terrified of what _my_ Mom would do to me. He seemed happy enough." We sit for a moment, then Chloe reaches forward and grabs the remote off the coffee table. "Let's see if there's anything good on this monster." She says, serious moment apparently over.

Two hours and three episodes of Twin Peaks later, and it's dark outside.

"Well," Chloe says, yawning, "That was fun. But I need to sleep now."

"We can use my old room." I say, "My parents never got around to converting it into my Dad's man cave like they planned to."

We move quietly through the house so as not to disturb my parents who went to bed about an hour ago. We enter my room, I switch on the nightlight and Chloe deposits her jacket on the back of my desk chair.

"Nice bed." Chloe says, poking her tongue out suggestively. I merely roll my eyes at her childish antics. I begin to undress, dumping my hoodie and jeans on the floor, too tired to really care. I turn back, and see that Chloe is bending over to pull her own jeans off, and is still wearing her beanie.

I am taken by a sudden burst of energy and mischievousness. I lean across and grab the beanie off her head.

"Hey!"

I dance backwards out of her reach, poking my tongue out mockingly.

"Max, give me back my beanie."

"Make me." I say, cheekily.

"Oh, I'll make you." She says, a glint in her eye. Before I have time to question what she means, I am pinned against my bedroom wall, wrists held above my head, Chloe's breath hot on my face. My heart races and Chloe's beanie drops to the floor. There is a tension between us, we both want this. She kisses me and the tension is broken. She captures my mouth in hers, gently biting my lower lip. She breaks the kiss and I arch forward, wanting more, held back by her hand on my wrists. Instead, Chloe begins kissing my jaw before moving down the left side of my neck. I am aware of every sensation on every inch of skin that she kisses. stopping only when she reaches the neckline of my t-shirt.

She releases my hands and drops hers to the hem of my t-shirt. She pulls it up over my head and drops it to the floor alongside her long-forgotten beanie. She stops. I follow her eyes and realise that she is staring at my scars. This is the first time she has seen them. She reaches out a hand, stopping short of actually touching. She looks up into my eyes.

"This is..."

"Yes." There are so many more words unsaid, but we know them.

"Max." She says, "Are you sure you want this?"

I nod. Apparently this is not enough.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I want this Chloe, I want you."

"Ok."

She reaches around behind my back and unhooks my bra, leaving my breasts exposed. Her other hand hikes my legs up around her waist and she carries me over to the bed, laying me down gently. She resumes her kissing where she left off, trailing down my collarbone, between my breasts, over the scars. When she reaches my navel I feel more alive than I ever have before. I can feel every fibre of the sheets beneath me, every ridge on Chloe's fingertips, strands of her hair tickling my belly, and when she pulls down my panties...

"Oh, god!"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: OK, I'm back. Looking at the reviews, I can see that everyone thinks I'm going to be a complete jerk and have Max's mother walk in on them. When would I ever do something like that? *Looks at chapter 9* Okay, maybe I do have prior on this.**

 **On another, completely unrelated note, this story now has more than 150 followers and almost 100 favourites. Thank you all so much for your support.**

 **Reviews**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Yes. Exceedingly**

 **Rayne Ariana Maranochi: Max's mom did not walk in on them, but a hotel room might be advisable.**

 **Dottifox: What can I say? I like my mean cliffhangers.**

 **Grumpycat42: Not 'Wowsers', but Chloe did state that she intended to make Max say 'Oh God' whilst not wearing much in the way of clothing.**

 **Aaron Leach: Thank you.**

 **Ketharas: Not the dad or the mom. Thank you.**

 **Lollypop6241: Little bit.**

 **HollyToney: Thank you. First one. You're welcome to the great writing.**

 **Arsheria/natgame11p: The only person coming in the room at that point was Max... Sorry, I'll show myself the door.**

 **Nodochi: Thank you**

 **MaxneverMaxine: Thank you.**

 **In this chapter there will be red faces and shouting. Enjoy.**

* * *

The light falling on my face is different from my usual mornings, as are the arms wrapped around me and the breath on the back of my neck. In my early morning disorientation, I am momentarily confused. Then I remember where I am, and more importantly, what happened last night.

I remember feeling amazing and on top of the world when Chloe went down on me, then being completely terrified when it was my turn to return the favour. Chloe had found it mildly amusing and after a short giggling fit, had proceeded to give me a crash course on how to please a woman when it became blatantly obvious that I had no idea what I was doing.

I remember being surprised by the revelation that Chloe doesn't just dye the hair on her head. I remember her declarations that nipple piercings allegedly heighten sensitivity.

I am in the process of remembering Chloe covering my mouth with her hand to stifle some of my louder noises when the arms wrapped around my body begin to creep upwards, the hands coming to rest almost possessively on my breasts. A slight squeeze convinces me that Chloe is not doing this subconsciously.

"Good morning to you too, Chloe."

A mumbled, "Mmmm, boobies." Is the only response I get.

I sigh, "Thanks for the morning grope, Chloe."

"Welcome."

We lie there in silence, Chloe's hands still firmly on my chest, until my stomach emits an unearthly growl and I realise that I am starving. I roll out of Chloe's embrace and begin the task of locating my clothes from last night. This is made more difficult by the fact that our activities were not confined to the bed, we ended up on the floor at least twice.

I bend over to pick my shirt up off the floor. As I do so, I glance behind me to find that Chloe is still lying in my bed, propped up on one elbow.

"Are you planning on coming for breakfast?" I ask.

Chloe grins, "Not going to lie, Max, I'm taking advantage of this wonderful opportunity to stare at your hella fine ass."

I can feel my face reddening. "Pervert."

Then I remember that Chloe thinks I look adorable when I'm blushing, which doesn't help. She laughs.

"Go get your breakfast, Hippie. I'm just going to lie here for a bit. You tired me out last night."

Still blushing furiously, I throw my clothes on, locate the slippers I forgot to take to Blackwell with me and head downstairs.

When I enter the kitchen, fully intending to find whatever cereal my parents have that isn't Mom's healthy eating stuff, I find that Dad has already woken up, and is nursing a mug of fresh coffee. The smell of that alone is enough to perk me up considerably.

"Good morning, Dad." I say, reaching up to open what I believe to be the cereal cupboard, only to find it filled with pasta and rice.

"Try the one next to it." There is something off about Dad's voice.

"Are you okay, Dad?" I turn to face him.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine." Definitely something up. He glances up from his coffee. "So... have a good night?"

What would otherwise be a perfectly innocuous question is made incredibly suspicious by Dad's behaviour and what happened last night.

"What do you mean?"

He finally looks me in the eye, "Well, let's just say that you and Chloe weren't as quiet as you think you were."

Oh. God.

I can feel my face reddening again. I make a futile attempt to hide the redness with my hands. Looking through my fingers I can see that my Dad looks almost as embarrassed as I feel.

"Ryan, I hope you made enough coffee to sh- Oh, good morning Maxine."

"Mom."

"Maxine." She stops and takes a deep breath. "Look, I know I didn't exactly react in the bes- IS THAT A HICKEY ON YOUR NECK!"

What. I find the nearest reflective surface I can, which happens to be the toaster and take a look at my reflection. Sure enough, about halfway down the left side of my neck is a small, circular bruise, exactly the right size to have been left by one Chloe Price. Dammit, Chloe.

"Morning. Why's everyone shouting?"

Miss Hickey-leaver has chosen exactly this moment to show up at the entrance to the kitchen, yawning and wearing what appears to be men's boxer shorts and a t-shirt that appears to consist of more holes than fabric.

Before I can say anything, Mom rounds on Chloe.

"You gave my daughter a hickey!" She says, pointing at my neck.

Chloe appears to be completely unfazed. "I did?" She follow Mom's gesture, "So I did."

"And you couldn't have noticed this earlier?" I ask. She shrugs.

"Hey, I wasn't exactly looking at your _neck._ "

Of all the things she could have said, all the words that could have made it at least a little better, _that's_ what she chose?

"So what were you looking at?" Mom's back into the conversation.

Chloe has finally realised that she's not being helpful, and that my relationship with my parents is slightly different than her relationship with her parents.

"Her face?" Chloe ventures.

"Really?" Mom is disbelieving.

"Yeah." Chloe nods vehemently, "Very nice face. Especially the eyes, I can get lost in Max's eyes, kind of like this house."

Mom takes a deep breath, about to go off on a rant at Chloe.

"Vanessa, don't." Dad has finally spoken up. "This is not helping anyone with anything. We knew they were together, we knew they were sharing a room, and we knew there was a chance this was going to happen. We can hardly blame them for doing what comes naturally to two young people in love."

Mom's mouth flaps slightly, wind taken completely out of her sails. Then Dad looks at Chloe.

"As long as you don't start doing it in complete view of other people, or in our room, what you get up to with my daughter is your private business, not mine. As long as she's happy with it, I won't stand in your way."

Chloe comes over to stand behind me. She wraps her arms around me and whispers in my ear. "That went well."

I lean into her.

"Go and put some proper clothes on Chloe."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it. As usual, please continue to leave reviews telling me what you thought of my work. Thank you.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Back again. Every two weeks is probably going to be the update schedule for this story I think.**

 **Aaron Leach: Thank you**

 **Stelosnarcos: Oh dear. Could you tell me what part of the chapter got you in trouble? Which bit were you laughing at?**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: You were right, it was awkward. Please remember to breathe, I've been called out on that enough times by my Judo instructor to know that breathing is important. Thank you.**

 **GrumpyCat42: Thank you**

 **A reader: This seems to be a popular reaction. I will try to keep them coming.**

 **Sylverd: Hola desde el Reino Unido. Here is the next chapter.  
**

 **Rayne Arianna Maranochi: Pretty much.**

 **MissMilkovich: Thank you. I'm glad that I nailed it, having never been on either side of a hickey before. I just tried to imagine how a mother would react to a small, circular bruise on a daughter's neck. What parts particularly made you laugh?**

 **MrLonzo: I have no idea who could be that dead. I just put that comment there because I felt that chapter one** could **work as a standalone. I didn't want it to stand alone, hence chapters 2-14.**

 **This chapter touches upon the fact that Max has gone through some serious shit recently, also Max and Chloe go semi-public with their relationship.**

* * *

I wake up, cold and sweating. For a moment I am trapped in the half-waking world that marks the boundary between dreams and reality, a boundary that no longer seems as secure as it did a month ago.

I can never remember the dreams, the nightmares. They always fade away as my conscious mind reaches out to grasp at the fragments, seeking desperately to make some sense of the dull fear that always grips me after one of these nights. The dreams do not come every night, or even most nights. But they come frequently enough to be concerning. The one fact I know about the dreams, is that they are always the same. The same place. The same circumstances. I could not say what place, or what circumstances. I suspect, but I do not know.

I check the time on my phone. 2:43 10/28/13 stares back at me, accusingly. I briefly consider texting, or even calling, Chloe. The thought is a stupid one. Chloe has her own problems, she doesn't need to hear about a nightmare that I can't even remember. And even if I could remember, what would I tell her? I used to have time travel abilities that I haven't told you about that resulted in an entire other timeline or three where I was one of the girls taken to the dark room by Mr Jefferson. These abilities also created a massive fucking tornado that almost wiped out Arcadia Bay, but I went back in time to sacrifice you for the rest of the town but I couldn't even bring myself to do that.

She'd either laugh at me or accuse me of being high, especially as I don't have any powers to back my claims up any more.

I lie back in the bed, intending to close my eyes and try to get back to sleep. I have a world history class in about seven hours. The photo wall next to my bed is refreshingly free of threatening messages daubed in red paint. Allison sits in the corner of my room, under the window, Lisa having not survived two days with me in hospital. I close my eyes and sleep takes me.

I wake again to the sound of my alarm, informing me that it is now 9:00 am and that I need to get ready for the day. The dorm hallway is filled with Halloween decorations; paper spiders, strings of lights shaped like jack-o'-lanterns, actual jack-o'-lanterns without candles in them, and all manner of skeletons and witches drawn on the slates outside rooms. I glance down the hallway, the walls immediately outside Kate's room are clean of any decorations, her slate bearing a passage from the bible. I suppose that as a Christian, Kate wouldn't celebrate Halloween.

The main school building is, if anything, even more decorated than the dormitories. Someone, likely Samuel, has erected a large banner over the main doorway wishing a 'Happy Halloween' to anyone that enters. Inside, lockers and doors are covered in stickers, plastic skeletons and crepe spiders adorn every surface.

I pass Warren and Brooke in the corridor. Warren smiles and waves at me, Brooke spares me maybe a second's glance before drawing Warren's attention back to herself. Taylor waves at me when Victoria's attention is focussed on Courtney.

I walk into the history class, take my seat and settle in for the first hour of two that morning.

Halfway through my algebra lesson, my phone vibrates its message alert against my leg. Taking advantage of Mr. Evans' back being turned, I sneak a quick look at the message. It's from Chloe.

'Two Whales for lunch? I'll pick you up and buy?'

I quickly tap out a response.

'Sounds great. Meet you in the parking lot :) xox'

Chloe's reply is almost immediate.

'NO EMOJI!'

I am mildly tempted to overwhelm her with a barrage of emojis, but decide against it.

True to her message, Chloe is waiting in the parking lot, leaning, as usual, on the front of her truck. For once, she isn't smoking anything. When I get close enough, she stands up and kisses me. It is shorter than the longer, more involved kisses that we share when no one else is around, but I still feel giddy every time it happens. We get into Chloe's truck and speed off to the Two Whales. Clearly the verge outside Blackwell has done Chloe a serious wrong, because, like every time before, she clips it as she leaves the parking lot.

At the Two Whales, we find ourselves a booth and squeeze in. I have the window on one side, Chloe on the other. Chloe decides that this is the perfect opportunity for a quick grope of my backside while I am distracted by the lunch menu. A quick slap on the wrist discourages that line of thought, and the offending hand is quickly removed.

"Food first, Chloe."

"Then groping?" I almost laugh at the hopeful tone in her voice. Then I make the mistake of looking at her, and, confronted with the full effect of Chloe Price trying to do puppy dog eyes, I burst into laughter.

"Later Chloe."

She laughs back, "I'll hold you to that, Mad Max."

I lean into her. I could just live in this moment, no dreams or nightmares, just spending time with Chloe.

Joyce isn't working at the moment, so Chloe orders from the waitress. As the waitress walks back behind the counter, I see Justin and Trevor having an animated, but hushed conversation two booths down from us. Based on the gestures, Trevor appears to be convincing Justin of something... or egging him on. Justin stands up, clearly having made his mind up about something.

"Oh, look." Chloe says, "The lover-boys have had a falling out."

Justin glances back at Trevor, who gives him a thumbs up and an encouraging grin. Justin approaches our table.

"Hey, uh Chloe."

"Justin." Chloe replies, "What's up?"

"Nothing." He says, "Well, I mean, nothing big, you know?"

The look Chloe gives, indicates that, on the contrary, she _doesn't_ know.

He sighs, takes a deep breath, and ploughs on.

"Look I was just wondering," His right hand comes up to rest on the back of his neck, and he rubs it slightly as he continues to talk. "I've got my hands on some majorly dope weed. And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come smoke it with me some time?"

Beneath the awkward stance and the stumbled phrasing which indicates that he has probably already hit some of the 'majorly dope weed' as a confidence booster, is the clear message that Justin is trying to ask Chloe on a date.

Chloe actually looks slightly apologetic as she turns him down. "Look Justin..."

He cuts her off, "Yeah. I should have figured it was a long shot. You're clearly out of my league."

"It's not about leagues." She looks at me, asking for permission. I nod. "You're just a bit late. I'm taken."

Justin seems genuinely surprised by this revelation. "Who?" He asks. Chloe responds by draping one arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer. "Max?"

"Is that a problem?" Chloe asks.

Justin raises his hand in a placative gesture, having clearly recognised the defensive tone in her voice. "No. No problem. I just didn't see Max as your type." He pauses, "Or gay." He shrugs. "Cool. I can see it now. I guess that's why you shot Warren down, huh?" The last is directed at me.

He walks away and I am left to reassure Chloe that I shot Warren down before our relationship started.

We sit, waiting for our food, Chloe's hand on my shoulder, my head resting against hers. Chloe's other hand takes hold of my chin and guides my lips gently to hers. The romantic moment is ruined when Chloe's hand migrates from my shoulder to my breast and gives it a light squeeze.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm back! I know, I'm not dead. Can you believe that?**

 **I'm sorry that this took so long. I had an absolute shit-ton of coursework and uni work to do over Easter, and then I had the whole inspiration v motivation seesaw thing to deal with.**

 **This story now has coverart courtesy of thiefofstarz on deviantart. Go and check her out.**

 **Also, I've changed the genres of the story from Romance/Angst to Romance/Hurt/Comfort.**

 **Anyway...**

 **Reviews**

 **Rayne Arianna Maranochi: Chloe is all about the groping. And let's be honest, there's a part of Max that secretly enjoys it.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: I have also been in the position of Justin, albeit with considerably less weed involved. Brooke's just a little bit insecure.**

 **MissMilkovich: I have never been put into that position before. But yes, I imagine a lot of people have had similar parental reactions.**

 **GrumpyCat42: True. And also true. groping!Chloe is just asking for trouble.**

 **Aaron Leach: Thank you.**

 **Sylverd: Glad you liked it.**

 **Suicidebunny: You are welcome my friend. With a name like that, have you, perchance read the works of Andy Riley? I'm glad that you love this story. The time travel reveal scene is coming. Of course it is. It's the only solid scene that has existed since the beginning of writing this story.**

 **MrLonzo: Thank you.**

 **Fritz: Thank you.**

 **dwayiam(C1): Good to hear.**

 **dwayiam(C14): Thank you.**

 **VODKA18: Thank you.**

 **darquan0: You are quite correct in your deductions. Keeping all that stress in is a VERY bad thing. The longer you bottle it up, the more devastating it is when it finally comes out. And it _will_ come out.**

 **MaxNeverMaxine: I am grateful for your concern. I am perfectly fine. Academic work just got the better of me for a while.**

 **This chapter, Pricefield fluff, unashamed and glorious.**

* * *

"Mom and Step-douche are out for the weekend, some 'big romantic gesture' of his." Even through the phone, Chloe's emphasis on those three words described exactly what she thought of that. "We'll have the house to ourselves until Sunday evening."

"And what exactly do you have planned, miss Price?" I ask. I can practically _hear_ the shrug in her response.

"I have pizza, ice cream, booze, movies and a bed that's just the right size for two. I think you know what I have planned."

"Spell it out for me." I tease.

Chloe groans, "Fine. We can cuddle up under a blanket on the couch in my living room, eating junk food and watching stupid films, then we can go to bed and fuck." A pause, "Or make love, or whatever romantic, sappy spin you want to put on it."

"Did you have to ruin that with 'fuck'?"

"I tell it like it is hippy. Then we can spend the rest of the weekend together, doing whatever before going back to boring normal lives on Monday, just in time for Step-prick to get back from wherever he's fucked off to with Mom."

"I don't know why you're complaining about that, Chloe," I say, "If he wasn't doing this 'big romantic gesture' you wouldn't be able to have me over."

Silence on the other end, then, "Why are you always right?"

I smile as I reply, "One of us has to be."

"Yeah, yeah. So they're leaving at eight, I'll stick around until half past to make sure they haven't forgotten something and decided to come back, then I'll pack you up at about nine. Sound good?"

"Sounds good to me, Chloe."

I say good bye and hang up. Then I check the time, just gone five o'clock. Damn. I have to wait four hours. I crack open my laptop and decide to begin working on the massive essay on the roles of youths and coming of age ceremonies of the Yaquina for cultural anthroplogy that's just been set, in order to kill time.

It is actually ten to nine when my phone vibrates with Chloe's text telling me that she's waiting in the parking lot, and five to nine by the time I get to her. We kiss and get into her truck. Some song about burning pianos is playing from the radio. I am tempted to try to snuggle up to Chloe, but write that off as a bad idea, considering that she is driving.

We pull into the drive of the Price household. As soon as we have closed the door behind us, Chloe immediately begins stripping off. Her jacket gets hung on the coat hooks, her boots get kicked off and dumped against the wall. She pulls her jeans off and leaves them in a pile on the floor. Then she turns to me.

"I'm the head of the house for the weekend, and house rules say: no pants." She reaches down, fiddles with the fastenings and pulls my jeans down so they are pooled around my ankles. "Much better."

I step out of my trainers and jeans and follow Chloe past the kitchen and into the living room, where she has set up blankets, pizza, ice cream, and popcorn. The lights are down and it all looks very romantic until I look at the TV screen and see a giant shark's head below a swimmer in a bikini.

"No, Chloe." She snorts. "We are NOT watching Jaws. You know I don't like that movie."

She moves towards me, attempting to imitate both the motions of a shark, and the Jaws theme at the same time, and failing badly at both because she is to busy trying not to laugh. In the end she just jumps on me and pushes me onto the sofa. We both burst into giggles at the stupidity of her antics, before she stands up to remove the offending DVD from the player. As she does I notice a small white square poking out from the right arm hole of her shirt.

"What's that on your back?" I ask.

She brings her hand up to cover it, in a motion that seems almost instinctive. She half-turns to face me, and looks, almost embarrassed. "Yeah, it's a nicotine patch." She shrugs, almost defensively, "I'm trying to quit."

"Why?" I don't think that there's anything wrong with trying to quit smoking, but Chloe had always seemed so set in her ways that I never considered she'd quit. Her reply catches me a little off guard.

"Because you don't like it." She says.

"What? Why would you..." I try to remember if I'd ever said anything about smoking, but draw a blank. Fortunately, it seems that Chloe is capable of reading minds.

"It wasn't anything you said. You just got this look every time I lit up."

"Chloe..."

She grins, "Hey, it's not all bad, now I get to save the money I would have spent on cigarettes and spend it on weed instead.

Annnd... there's that look again." I immediately try to remove any look from my face. "I'm just fucking with you hippy, I am responsible now." The last part is said with hand on heart, and the straightest of straight faces, a pose which Chloe manages to maintain for all of three seconds before laughing and turning back to changing the DVD. Soon we are cuddled up under the blanket, large bucket of popcorn on the coffee table in front of us, opening theme to Blade Runner playing out of the TV speakers.

In the middle of the Batty v Deckard scene, I am taken by the need to pee. I glance over at Chloe and see that she has fallen asleep. I smile, she never could make it all the way through. I still don't think she's ever seen the ending. I carefully extricate myself so as not to wake her and make my way to the toilet. When I return, I see that a butterfly has flown in through the slightly open window and landed on Chloe's nose, wings spread. The blue of the wings matches the blue of her hair. I retreat to the hall and grab my camera from my bag. Moving slowly so as not to disturb either of the blue beauties before me, I line up the camera for the shot.

The click and whirr of the camera's mechanisms, combined with the flash of the bulb in the low light conditions cause the butterfly to fly off, and Chloe to stir in her sleep.

"Wha... Max. Are you taking photos of me in my sleep?"

"There was a butterfly on your nose." I tell her as I look at the developing picture. It could not have come out any better, the butterfly's wings are spread their widest, showing off the range of iridescent colours and almost seeming to glow. Chloe's expression is one of supreme calmness and peace, and her hair sets off the butterfly wonderfully. I show Chloe the photo and she whistles through her teeth, impressed.

"Damn, Max. You've got a real talent for this shit." Then she looks at the TV. "Shit, how much of it did I miss?"

"Most of it?" I venture, "Honestly Chloe, it's like you don't _want_ to see the end of Blade Runner."

She pokes her tongue out at me. Then she yawns.

"Awww." I tease, "Someone's tired." And indeed she is, too tired to even raise a single finger in my direction. I sling one of her arms over my shoulder and escort her up the stairs to her bedroom. In her room, we collapse onto the bed and arrange ourselves into the spooning position. I am the little spoon. I am always the little spoon, because, as Chloe puts it, I am the little person. I nestle back into Chloe and drift of to sleep, safe in her arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Chapter 16 is here and, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.**

 **This is something people have been asking for, almost constantly, since chapter 3, and that I have been teasing since chapter 4. Again, I'm fucking sorry.**

 **Review responses after story this time.**

 **I'm assuming if you're reading this, then you've already played the game. Nothing in this chapter is any worse than what happened in episode 5.**

* * *

Bright light floods my vision, so bright that it hurts. I cannot see anything. I cannot move anything. I adjust to the intensity of the light, and my vision begins to clear. Slowly, things begin to come into focus. I see a table and a couch in front of me. To my right, a wheeled trolley with files and needles. I am surrounded by photography equipment. No.

No.

It can't...

"Ah, Max. Here we are again." The voice is instantly recognisable, and one that I had hoped never to hear again.

"This can't-" My voice is weak.

"Can't what? Can't be happening?" Mr Jefferson steps closer to me. I realise that I cannot move because I have tape around my wrists and ankles. Mr Jefferson smiles, cruelly. "What, you thought you escaped? Silly girl. You can never escape this place. You will never be able to leave it behind you. There is nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide, that my Dark Room, that I, will not be able to find you." He brings his hand up to my neck, a syringe in his grasp. "Now let's get down to business."

I feel the needle puncture my skin, then, nothing.

I am in the junk yard. I look down at myself. I am wearing Rachel Amber's old clothes.

"Hello, Max." I do not recognise the voice. I look up and see Rachel Amber standing in front of me. She is wearing the same black t-shirt and jean shorts from Mr Jefferson's photos. Her skin is pale and dirty, her hair filled with clumps of dirt. There is a glassiness to her eyes that no living person possesses.

"Rachel?"

"Surprised? How's Chloe, Max? I'm sure she misses me. I know that she loves me. You know that too, don't you. You know that she'll never love you as much as she loves me. You're just a replacement. Second prize. But you know that don't you." Rachel steps closer. "After all, hasn't she tried to turn you into me?" She indicates my clothes, her clothes. "A pale imitation of course. But not too bad considering the poor base she has to work with." Rachel steps away from me, a look of sadness on her face. "Why won't you let her come to see me Max? She wants to so badly. She's dying to see me."

Chloe's body appears on the ground behind Rachel, bullet hole in her forehead, blood staining her face and matting her hair. "Don't you love her, Max? Don't you want her to be happy? We both know that she can't have that with you."

I am back in the Dark Room. Still strapped to the chair. Mr Jefferson is no longer in the room. Instead, Kate Marsh is seated on the couch opposite me.

"Well done, Max. You saved your precious Chloe, but what about me? I can't get the help I need now. All I have are these feelings inside me, bubbling up to the point where I explode. Maybe this time, you won't be there to 'save' me, God willing. You claimed to care. You cared so much about me that you told me to 'be strong'. That worked. Next time you quote the Bible, try to pick an apropo quote, idiot. If you think free hugs will help, you are out of your mind. Max, Nathan drugged me, and Jefferson took all those gross photos of me. I bet you wish you could take shots like that, huh? You might win a Pulitzer!"

A flash of light, like a camera flash, and Kate is replaced by Chloe.

"Well, hippie? Take a picture, it'll last longer." She laughs, "You know I only hang out with you because you're so easy to manipulate. Just a hint of waterworks and you'll do anything I ask, it's pathetic. You're pathetic. You actually think I like you? You're a fucking child. I can do so much better than you. There are so many people in Arcadia Bay that are more worthy of me than you are. You couldn't get people to like you for you, so you used your powers to manipulate them, to make them think that you cared. You're a liar, Max. And I'm so over your hipster bullshit."

I am treated to a montage of Chloe making out with everyone I know. Victoria. Warren. Kate. Nathan. Brooke. Dana. Rachel. Frank. Mr Jefferson. Mom. Dad. Mom and Dad. All interspersed with camera flashes. A final flash and Chloe is replaced with Warren.

"Hello, Max. Did you miss me? Of course you didn't. You don't like me. You never did. I don't care now though. I don't need you anymore. Brooke's better than you ever were. She's a real woman."

Flash.

Frank stands in front of me, switchblade in his hand. "Hello, Max. I'm dead now. I bet you're glad I'm dead, aren't you? Glad that I'm not a problem for your precious Chloe anymore. Her debts are more important than my life, right?"

Flash.

Frank is replaced by Nathan.

"Hey, bitch. Did you forget about me?" He raises his gun. "Bang!" He pulls the trigger.

I'm screaming. Everything is dark. Something is restraining me. I need to be free. I need to break lose. I thrash about, arms and legs going everywhere. I throw head back and hear a loud thud, feel solid matter behind me. The restraints disappear.

"What the fuck, Max?!"

I remember where I am. It was a nightmare, a dream, it wasn't real. It wasn't real. I'm on the floor, curled into a foetal ball. I am crying. Great, uncontrollable sobs, tears flowing down my face. It was like I was back there, back in the Dark Room. Memories that I had thought forgotten, relegated to half-remembered nightmares return with full force. My whole body convulses and I'm violently sick, all over the floor, all over myself.

"Jesus fuck, Max!" Chloe's voice sounds strange. When she drops onto the floor next to me, I see that it is because she has one hand over face, failing to contain a steady stream of blood flowing from her nose. Undeterred by the vomit, Chloe puts her free arm around me. I turn into her, burrowing deep, still crying. I am desperate for closeness, for reassurance. I need it, I need her. Chloe holds me close. "It's okay Max. It was just a nightmare. It was a dream."

I shake my head against her body. "No. No." I hear myself whispering, "Not a dream."

Chloe is confused, I can hear it in her voice. "Max, we need to get you cleaned up. Come on." Still holding me close, she picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. She helps me out of my vomit-covered clothes and into the shower. The sobs have subsided, but the tears still flow, washed away by the shower. Chloe removes her own clothes and climbs in to help me clean myself, seeing that I am unable to do it on my own.

We return to her room. I have stopped crying. Chloe uses a towel from the bathroom to clean up the vomit. She gets a change of clothes from her fashion hole. She turns to me. "You're going to need a change of clothes. Rachel left some of her clothes with me, she's, she was, about your size."

I hear Rachel's voice inside my head.

 _She's trying to replace you. Trying to turn you into me. You're not good enough for her._

I start crying again. Chloe looks confused.

"Max? What's the matter, Max? It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real." She doesn't know, doesn't understand.

I need to tell her. So I do. I tell her _everything._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Reviews.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Isn't it just.**

 **darquan0: Max avoided freaking out by having a lock on those memories, a lock with a very specific, insect-shaped key.**

 **MissMilkovich: Thank you. Continuing to update now.**

 **MaxneverMaxine: Thank you, and yes, yes she will.**

 **Aaron Leach: Thank you.**

 **GrumpyCat42: Thank you.**

 **Rayne Ariana Maranochi: I'm thinking that you will want to be hugging them again, but for very different reasons.**

 **This story recently hit 200 followers, so thank you to PhoenixLeo.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Back again. This time it was a combination of low motivation, Fire Emblem: Fates, and preparation for exams. Those are coming in the next few weeks, so I will probably not be updating for a while.**

 **Interesting fact, in case any of you are interested: We are Alive has more favourites, follows, views and reviews than all of my other stories on this website put together.**

 **Reviews**

 **darquan0: Right where it hurts indeed. Max will not quite be telling Chloe everything, but everything that involves Chloe.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: This is very much true, and they're not going away any time soon.**

 **VODKA18: Not sure 'Nice' is the word I'd use to describe the last chapter, well-written, maybe. I'm assuming that's what you're referring to.**

 **MaxNeverMaxine: Thank you. Also, you don't need to worry about me if I don't post regularly. Inspiration hits me in fits and bursts.**

 **Rayne Ariana Maranochi: My bad, that response was initially planned to go at the head of the previous chapter, so you wouldn't have read the whole nightmare before the response. Then I changed the response to the end because I felt it was less disruptive and forgot to change that particular response.**

 **CassieHU: Hadn't actually listened to that song before your comment.**

 **JackieChallis: A lot of reviews here, so thanks for that. Let's get started.**

 **1-3: Thank you. 4: It was, exceedingly. 5: She's been through some shit. 6: Thank you. 7: Warnings? For Chloe messing with Max? Never! 8: Yay for Pricefield. Although that goes without saying, considering the summary... and the pairing... and the coverart. 9: Chloe enjoys messing with people. 10: thank you. 11: I just felt that Max's Dad was more whole-heartedly supportive of her. 12: I make no apologies. 13: Oops. 14: Neither have I, mostly because I read Chloe as utterly gay. That was written because in episode 4, Max mentions that Justin seems really into Chloe. 15: Glad you liked it. 16: Sorry. I spent a lot of time browsing Pricefield on Tumblr, it's very good for inspiration.**

 **There's a poll relating to this story on my profile, I'd appreciate it if everyone could go and check it out. Thank you.**

* * *

I tell Chloe everything. I didn't mean to. Not _everything_. But once I had started talking, it was like a dam had broken, and everything came pouring out. I started from the very beginning, the vision in class, the toilet shooting, the powers. I can tell that she doesn't believe me. I know that I probably sound crazy. I tell her about the junkyard and the bottles, and the confrontation with Frank. I can see her surprise that I know the name. I tell her about the train. I tell her about trying to find Rachel, about breaking into Blackwell, the pool. I tell her about the kiss the morning after. I tell her about breaking into Frank's RV. I can see something shift in her expression, maybe she's starting to believe me. I pause for a moment, unsure whether or not to continue, to tell her about William. I decide that she deserves to know. So I tell her. I tell her what I did, and what happened. I tell her that I saved her father, put her in wheelchair, then I tell her that I helped end her life. I realise that I am still crying, that I have tears running down my cheeks. I push on. I tell Chloe about investigating Nathan Prescott's room. My voice catches as I tell her about the Dark Room. I tell her what happened to her at the junkyard, what happened to me.

I can't tell her any more. I break down completely, Chloe catches me as I start to fall, and I just stand there, crying into her chest.

"Holy shit, Max." a hitch in Chloe's voice tells me that she is crying too. I risk a glance upwards, and see that her eyes are red and brimming with tears. "Holy shit." She repeats herself. "And that's what the nightmare was about?"

I shake my head. "No." My voice is barely a whisper. I tell her about seeing Rachel in the dream, what she said to me.

"Oh." Chloe's voice is small and quiet. "Shit." I feel her arms tighten around me. "That's not what I meant Max. You're not replacing anyone, and no one could replace you."

I break free of her embrace, and look her in the eye. "So, you don't think I'm crazy?" I hate how pathetic and needy my voice sounds.

"No! I mean, it does all sound a bit unbelievable, but there's no way you could have known some of that shit without actually..." She stops speaking suddenly and sits heavily on the edge of the bed. She is silent for a moment, then looks up at me. When she speaks again, her voice is hollow. "You took a bullet for me. I mean, you actually- I was supposed to get shot, but you..." She shakes her head. "You took a bullet for me. An actual, fucking bullet." She's trying to process all of this, trying and failing. She looks at me, the tears that were threatening to fall earlier, now flowing freely. "What did I do to deserve you? I'm just a high school drop out, and you're, fucking superwoman or something."

"Don't say that, Chloe. You're not worthless."

She snorts, "Yeah right, you're the one who's gone through all that shit and the nightmare, and I'm the one being comforted." She stands again, "Max, I have no idea what you've been through. No frame of reference for what to do, what to say to make it better for you. I don't know what you need."

I step towards her, "I need you, Chloe. I need my best friend, my girlfriend. I need you to hold me and never let go. Please."

She wraps her arms around me again. "Okay, Max. I think I can do that. I promise I'll be there for you. Whenever, and whatever you need."

"Thank you, Chloe."

"For example, clothes. I don't know if you've realised this, Max, but we're both still naked."

I look down and realise that she is right. I blush and hastily try to cover myself. I can also still smell my vomit on her floor. The smell almost makes me want to throw up again. Chloe steps gingerly around the puddle on the floor, and starts rooting around in her drawers. She throws a white tank top at me. A feathered cow skull is on the front. "Here, put that on. Might be a bit big on you, but at least you won't be naked any more."

I put it on. As Chloe suggested, it is a bit big. The hem comes to halfway down my thighs, and the neckline clearly exposes my bullet scars. The underwear that Chloe throws at me next is likewise a couple of sizes too large for me. They ride very low on my hips, but at least I'm covered. Chloe has meanwhile dressed herself in a black t-shirt with a picture of a bird on it. She then covers her face with another t-shirt that she ties around her head, and begins the unpleasant job of cleaning up my vomit with a large amount of paper towels that she produced seemingly from nowhere.

"You think this is the first time I've had puke on my floor?" Chloe seems to read my mind. Her voice is somewhat muffled by the t-shirt. "I've drank myself sick more times than I care to remember. I keep cleaning supplies under the bed. If you want to help, you can get the air freshener out." I grab the can and begin the process of de-stinking Chloe's room. The nightmare was horrible, and reliving the Dark Room, even worse. But telling someone else, telling Chloe, about everything that has happened, makes me feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It makes me feel as though everything can, and will, get better.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Back again.**

 **Reviews**

 **Due to your response to the poll, I will no longer be responding to reviews that only require one or two word answers. Please be reassured though that I read all of your reviews, and that they are all important to me.**

 **darquan0: Yeah, Chloe's lifestyle is not compatible with a clean floor. And Max needed to vent or she would have exploded.**

 **jackiechallis** **: I'm not going to be skipping ahead that far anytime soon, I have some things that need to be addressed here and now. I don't have twitter anymore, I used to, but I deleted it.**

 **Rayne Ariana Maranochi: It is a good start, but it's also definitely not over. This is not the last Max will see of her nightmares, or Jefferson.**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Max needs support, and fortunately Chloe was there to provide it.**

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed almost without incident, almost. The incident in question occurred at about half past seven in the afternoon on Sunday. We were in Chloe's room, on her bed. Clothes were in the process of coming off when we heard a car pulling into the driveway. Chloe rolled off me and tugged aside the curtain and looked out.

"Shit! Step-dick's back early!"

"What?"

"You heard me, Max. They're getting out of the car. We can't let Sgt. Pepper catch you here, he'll go mental."

"What do we do?"

"I'll stall them. You, you can go out the window."

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you want to get caught?"

The sound of a key in the look downstairs interrupts our conversation.  
"No time to argue. Window, hippy." Chloe turns around and dashes out of the room, intent on stopping David from catching me.

I grab my clothes from the floor, throw them on, sling my bag over my shoulder and prepare to leave. I hesitate for a moment. Despite the danger of being caught by David, I was not leaving the house without a souvenir. Glancing about for something to take, my eyes settled on a black hoodie resting on top of a pile of cardboard boxes. Stuffing the hoodie into my bag, I lifted the window and clambered out onto the roof. As I closed the window behind me, I could hear the dull sounds of arguing in the house below me. Chloe's 'distraction', no doubt. I just hope that she doesn't get in trouble on my behalf.

Sliding down the angled roof underneath Chloe's window, I remember the first time I did this, what feels like years ago, but was actually little over a month. This time I managed to grab the gutter and drop down gently, as opposed to shooting over the edge and landing on Chloe.

Unfortunately for me, the bus to Blackwell doesn't run this late on Sundays. I have to walk all the way back to the school. As it starts getting colder, I pull the stolen hoodie out of my bag and pull it on over my own hoodie. Having been designed for someone bigger than me, it fits fairly comfortably over my own hoodie. The hoodie smelt faintly like weed, and a lot like Chloe. It was also warm and comfortable. I had a small smile on my face as returned to the Blackwell dorms.

Inside the dorm, everything is dark, except for the hall outside Dana's room. Dana is sitting on her bed reading something. She looks up as she hears me passing.

"Max! I haven't seen you all weekend. Where've you- Oh, you were with your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

Dana is grinning slyly. "You've clearly been hiding it for a while, Max."

"No, Dana. No boyfriend."

She gives me a look that is clearly disbelieving. "Max, you're wearing his hoodie."

"This is mine." I lie. She actually laughs at that.

"Max, that hoodie is clearly much too large for you. Also, it's definitely not your style. You've never worn anything like that before."

I look down at the front of the hoodie and realise it has a silhouette of a ribcage, spine and pelvis in grey on the front. Dana shifts down along the bed. She pats the vacated space next to her.

"Max, come in, sit down, spill."

I enter the room, closing the door behind me.

"I'm just trying to work out who the lucky guy is, I've never seen anyone at Blackwell wearing a hoodie like that."

I suppose I need to tell someone at some point, Dana's a good friend, I can trust her. Right?

"Dana, it's not my boyfriend's hoodie." I can see her mouth forming the word 'bullshit', "It's my girlfriend's."

Dana's mouth is now a perfect circle. "Oh. So you're-"

"Gay? Yes."

"So... Who's the lucky girl, then? And does she know you've stolen her hoodie?"

"Her name's Chloe." I say, "And, no, she doesn't know I've stolen it, not yet anyway."

Dana practically squeals as she bounces on the bed next to me, "I want details, Max. Tell me all about the girl who stole your heart."

"I wouldn't say she stole-" I break off the sentence as I realise that that's actually a fairly accurate description of what Chloe did. "She was my best friend when I was younger." I tell Dana. "I used to live in Arcadia Bay until I was thirteen." Dana nods.

"I remember you telling me that when you first came to Blackwell. So she was your childhood sweetheart, that's so cute, Max."

I shake my head, but it seems almost cruel to disillusion her. "No, I wasn't in love with Chloe when I was thirteen, I was just a little kid, Dana."

Dana makes a face at me, "It would have made for such a cute story."

"Right, where was I? Well, we lost touch after I moved away. It was- it was my fault." For some reason, admitting that to someone who _isn't_ Chloe feels good, like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

"So you met her again after moving back for Blackwell?"

"Not exactly. I met her after I got shot."

Dana starts slightly and stares at me. "What?"

"She was in the toilets when I got shot. She was the one who shouted for help."

"Wow, that's some reunion, Max."

"I started spending time with her after I got out of the hospital, then she dared me to kiss her."

I stop talking as Dana snorts with laughter, oddly it reminds me of Chloe.

"It's not funny, Dana."

"It is. You started a relationship with a girl after she dared you to kiss her."

I feel pressed to defend myself, "Hey, she kissed me back."

"So the dare was her way of flirting with you?"

She... may have a point, it is exactly the sort of thing that might make sense in Chloe's head.

"Hey, what if she dared you to run away to Canada and marry her?"

That also seems like something Chloe might suggest, admittedly whilst either drunk or high.

"Knock it off, Dana."

"Sorry. Carry on."

"Then, that weekend, she drove me up to Seattle and I told my parents about being gay, and that I had a girlfriend."

Dana has sobered up slightly, "How well did that go?"

"They thought I was trying to tell them that I was pregnant at first. They both accepted it, Mom took a little time to get to grips with the idea, but it's okay now."

Dana nods, "So, what does she look like? Have you got any pictures of her?"

I scroll though my phone's memory, looking for photos and find none. Then I remember the photo I took of Chloe and the butterfly. I root around in my bag, dig the photo out and present it to Dana.

"She's beautiful, Max. I guess this is why you shot Warren down?"

I take the photo back, "You know about that, huh?"

"Max, everyone knows about that. Victoria made sure of that."

"Victoria?"

Dana nods, "Yeah, she was making sure everyone knew that, 'Warren couldn't even get Max Selfie to go out with him.' She basically stopped after he hooked up with Brooke."

"I see. But, no, that's not why I turned Warren down, I just don't see him that way. He's a friend, a good friend, but nothing more."

I yawn, and suddenly become aware of just how tired I am. Dana seems to simultaneously realise how late it is. We finish our conversation and I head back to my room. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Well, I'm back.**

 **Did you miss me?**

 **The last year has been difficult for me, and I'm only now getting back into writing.**

 **Reviews**

 **jackiechallis: David doesn't have any problems, per se, it's just that Max is somewhat scared of him, and Chloe doesn't trust him.**

 **FrenchBoy1: The relationship will become common knowledge eventually, probably somewhere before chapter 25. I have no idea how far I'm going to take this timewise, and I'm not entirely sure when marriage will get involved, _if_ it even does.**

 **And to those of you asking for more: Well, I'm back, and hopefully I'm here to stay.**

 **So, here we go.**

* * *

"Max. Max, look!"

I look up from my pizza to see whatever it is that Chloe thinks is so important. She is looking at me with an expression that is both expectant and immensely self-satisfied. She is apparently very proud of the fact that she has been able to balance a spoon on the end of her nose. I am not even entirely sure where she got the spoon from, seeing as neither of us ordered anything that would require the use of a spoon. This means that she likely stole it from someone else's table, the alternative being that she carries a spoon around on her person for precisely this purpose.

"So, are you impressed?" She is speaking very carefully to avoid dislodging the spoon from its precarious position.

"Very impressed, Chloe." I tell her dryly. "Now put that spoon back on the table it came from."

"Spoilsport." She leans across the aisle and places the spoon on a table that looks as though it has been recently cleaned.

We finish eating, split the bill and tip the waitress (at my insistence). We leave Bava's pizzeria and step out into the warm autumn sunshine. We walk down the road together, Chloe's arm draped almost lazily around my shoulders. We don't talk, just enjoying each other's company. It feels good. It feels nice.

We turn to cross the road to the parking lot we left Chloe's truck in. Suddenly, I hear a loud, screeching noise. I look up to determine the source. As I do so, Chloe twists round and shoves me backwards. I catch my heel on the curb and fall backwards, watching helplessly as an out of control car smashes into Chloe, sending her flying. I watch as the car crashes into the wall on the other side of the sidewalk. I remain motionless, staring at Chloe's limp, lifeless body, lying on the road, surrounded by a slowly-spreading pool of blood, limbs at odd angles. I am completely numb, my mind unable to process what has just happened, unable to react. My body reacts long before my mind does. My hand comes up and the world twists around me. I feel the once-familiar pressure building in my head. The car reverses out of the wall towards me, and Chloe's body follows it backwards through the air until she is standing in the road beside me. I feel the head-splitting pressure that indicates that I am pushing the rewind as far it could go and release it.

I grab Chloe and drag her out of the road. She turns to look at me, a question already forming on her lips. Then the car screeches again. She turns back to the road just as the car careens through the space that she had been occupying only a moment before. The car continues past us on its destructive trajectory unimpeded, before smashing once more into the wall. This time Chloe is standing beside me in a state of shock, rather than lying in the road.

"Holy shit!" I hear Chloe's voice but I don't register it. I know that I should be doing... something. I should be helping the occupants of the car, but I can't. I feel weak, so weak. I finally realise what has just happened, what I've just done. My legs give way beneath me. I feel Chloe hooking her arms beneath my armpits in an attempt to stop me collapsing completely.

"Max!" She sounds panicked. I can hear myself speaking, the words just spilling out.

"No. No. Not again. I can't... I shouldn't..."

The world seems to be fading. I can feel the blood running out of my nose.

When I come round the first thing that I see is Chloe's panicked face hovering over me. She is holding a blood-stained tissue in her hand. I vaguely process that it must be my blood, from my nose-bleed. I can see her lips moving, but I cannot hear anything she is saying. I blink, trying to focus. Slowly sounds come back to me. Fuzzy and distorted at first, as though heard from underwater, but they eventually resolve themselves into recognisable noises and words.

"Max! Max! Can you hear me?"

I raise my hand to my forehead as though to stave off the headache that I can already feel forming.

"I can hear you, Chloe. I'm..." My voice trails off, because what can I say? I'm not okay, not by a long shot. I've messed with time again. After what happened last time. What have I done? I try to desperately to remember what happened whilst I was out. What visions I had seen. I cannot remember anything, only darkness. What did it mean? Had I somehow fucked up so colossally that the entire universe was going to end as a result.

I can feel myself panicking. I can feel my breathing speed up. I begin to hyperventilate.

"Max?" Chloe has realised what is going on. She drops to the floor next to me and wraps her arms around me, pulling me close. I grab wildly for her, holding on tight to her, to reassure myself that she is still here, that the world isn't about to fade into darkness or nothingness. I can feel her hand on the back of my head, gently stroking my hair. She keeps talking to me, her voice is soft and reassuring. "It's okay, Max. You're okay. I'm okay. It's okay. We're safe."

I cannot help it anymore, I burrow deep into her reassuring embrace and start to cry.

* * *

 **A/N: I briefly considered having Chloe say "We are alive." at the end there, but decided that that was too obvious, even for me.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Here we go again**

 **Momijifan Low-Ki: Still not good. Very much not good.**

 **A Reader: sorry, but that's just how the story goes.**

 **I hadn't intended for the story to take this turn when I started writing it back in 2015. But here we are. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

I am no longer crying. This is more because I am tired and dehydrated, rather than because I'm feeling better. I am slumped in the front of Chloe's truck as she drives us back to Blackwell. I stare out of the window, terrified that any moment the sky above us will turn grey, that an eclipse will appear, or that a tornado will obscure the horizon. What if all I have done is grant myself and Chloe a temporary reprieve? Borrowed time counted in weeks rather than days?

I am so focussed on the sky that I barely register the fact that Chloe is not driving towards Blackwell anymore. It is only when she stops the truck that I realise that she has driven us to the lighthouse. I turn away from the sky, towards Chloe. My face must show my confusion because she answers my question before I can give voice to it.

"You're in no condition to go back to school right now Max. You need to chill, to relax." I begin to raise my voice in protest but Chloe overrides me. "If you're worried about your record or whatever, just tell 'em that you nearly got hit by a car and needed some space, even those dicks at Blackhell should be able to understand that." She smiles reassuringly at me, and I latch onto that smile like a drowning man to a sinking ship. "Come on." She says, getting out of the truck.

We walk up the path to the lighthouse together. I lean heavily on Chloe for support the whole way. She doesn't seem to mind.

When we reach the lighthouse, we sit down on the bench together, looking out over the bay. For a moment I am comforted by the sense of normalcy this brings, but then I remember the last time that I stood here. Watching the tornado bear down on Arcadia Bay. Making the decision to go back in time and kill Chloe. It is too much for me. I start crying again. Chloe wraps her arms around me, one hand rubbing my back. She doesn't say say anything, I don't think she knows what to say.

Even with Chloe, and the midday sun, I feel cold. My clothes feel as though they are soaked through. I can feel wind whipping and tearing at my skin, at my clothes. As I look up, I see a fishing boat fly through the air above me and Chloe, and crashes into the lighthouse tower. The tower cracks and falls towards us. I scream, and cover my head.

"Max! It's okay. There's no-one else here. We're safe." Chloe's voice sounds remarkably calm despite the chaos. That's when I realise. It isn't real. The only wetness on my clothes is from my tears, and also, I realise with growing shame and embarrassment, where I have pissed myself in my fear.

"What the fuck, Max?" Chloe is trying, and failing, to keep the fear out of her voice. I am finally able to bring myself to look at her.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I thought I had cried it all out, but I can feel more tears threatening to fall. Chloe wipes them away with her thumb.

"Max, you need to talk to me. You have tell me what's going on."

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. She's right. I need to talk to someone about this, and the only person I trust not to think I'm insane is her. "The car… outside the pizza place. It hit you, Chloe. I - it killed you." She seems confused, and opens her mouth to object. I plow onwards. "You were dead and then I rewound time and you weren't and I was afraid because the last time…" I can feel myself babbling and losing control. I stop and take another breath. "The last time I rewound I caused the tornado. I did so much damage and I couldn't fix it, and everytime I tried, you ended up dead. And then I fixed it, and you were alive, _we_ were alive. And I - I might have just fucked it all up." I can see that my swearing surprises her, I'm not who I was before my powers. "And then we got here and it was like I was back there. Back with the tornado. I could feel it, Chloe. I could feel the wind, and the rain, and the cold. Then the lighthouse fell on us."

"And that's when you screamed." It is a statement, not a question, but I still feel compelled to answer.

"Yes." my voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper. "It was like I was there, and here, at the same time."

"Shit." She exhales loudly. "This is some serious stuff Max. I don't know what to do. But we'll do it together, whatever it is. You just- you need to promise to talk to me about this Max. Like, whenever, you can just text me or call me." She shrugs. "It's not like I've got to go to school or anything." She must see something in my expression, because she sighs heavily. "Max, I know I can be a bit of a dick at times, but despite what step-prick thinks, I know that it's not all about me and my problems, not all of the time." She drapes one arm across my shoulders and pulls me tight to her. "You're my best friend, my girlfriend. I'm not going to just abandon you, Super Max, I'm your partner in crime."

"And I'm your partner in time." I say. I can feel the tears finally abating. I take a deep breath, and hope that my voice isn't actually as shaky as it sounds. "Can we go now? I think I need a change of clothes."

We head back down the trail and climb into Chloe's truck. She doesn't seem to care about getting piss on the seat, that's probably because it's had worse on it in its time belonging to Chloe. We pull out of the parking lot and roar away.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter was written whilst listening to 'The Sense of 'Me'' and 'Mt. Washington' which probably explains a lot**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I'm back again**

 **I can assure you that the tornado is not coming back**

 **Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this for as long as you have, despite my erratic and unreliable updating schedule.**

* * *

Chloe drives us back to her house. I am grateful to her for this, because I do not think that I would be able to face Blackwell in my current state. Joyce and David are both working, so the house is silent when we enter. I follow Chloe up the stairs in silence, uncomfortably aware of the damp patch in my jeans.

I enter the bathroom alone, Chloe having headed to her room to give me some privacy. I undress slowly, assessing each item of my clothing for whether or not it can be worn after the shower. My jeans and underwear go straight into the 'no' pile. After a moment's consideration, my socks join them. My jacket is the first item to make it into the 'yes' pile, having been spared the indignities suffered by my jeans. My shirt has a small but noticeable blood stain, presumably from my earlier nosebleed, so it goes into the 'no' pile. Finally my bra joins my jacket as the only other item that I will be able to wear after getting out of the shower.

As I turn to get into the shower, I catch sight of my naked body in the mirror. The first thing I notice is how terrible my face looks. I look tired and haunted, with bags beneath eyes that are red from crying. I glance down at my chest and see a red smear spread across my chest. For a moment my rational conscious brain takes a back seat and my subconscious is convinced that the blood is coming from my bullet scar. I panic and clasp my hands over my chest in a desperate attempt to hold the blood inside my body before I realise that the blood is dried and my conscious brain reasserts itself and I realise that the blood is from my nosebleed and must have soaked through my shirt.

The adrenaline from my panic leaves me and I feel myself slump. I place my hands on the shelves under the mirror to balance myself, scattering an array of cosmetics as I do so.

"Shit." I curse under my breath. Fortunately, nothing is broken. I stand like that for a moment, taking deep breaths to try and get myself back under control. I begin picking things up off the floor and placing them back on the shelves.

I find the switch for the bathroom exhaust fan, and after a moment it whirrs into life. I step into the bathtub and turn on the shower. I barely manage to contain my shriek as freezing water jets out of the showerhead and all over me. I scramble for the temperature control and twist it towards the warmer water.

I finally get the water to a reasonable temperature and just stand there allowing the water to pour down around me. The warmth relaxes my body and the sensation of the water thundering down drives any worries or thoughts from my mind. After a moment of standing like that, I begin the process of cleaning various bodily fluids from my body and as I do so I feel as though the worries are washing away. I have always found showers to be good places to think, and this one seems to be no different. As I clean myself off I tell myself that having not seen any visions of Arcadia Bay being destroyed in terrible, apocalyptic fashion means that my actions are not likely to cause such an event. I tell myself that if I do not even know _if_ my actions will lead to the destruction of Arcadia Bay, then there are no actions that I can take to prevent it. I tell myself that I have enough photos that if I do get visions of destruction at some point in the future I will be able to come back and prevent them.

I repeat these three statements to myself constantly and by the time I turn off the water and step out of the shower I have almost convinced myself that they are true. I dry myself off using Chloe's ratty old pirate towel then wrap it around myself before grabbing my bra and jacket off the floor and heading to Chloe's room.

Chloe has not been idle whilst I was showering. When I enter her room I see that she has laid out an array of clothes for me to choose from. I recognise Rachel Amber's ripped jeans amongst the mess that Chloe has strewn across her bed.

"Max. You're done." I am about to respond before Chloe hugs me, seemingly not caring about my damp hair. She draws back and looks at me with a slightly concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay? I heard you shriek earlier. I should have warned you that Stepdick likes his showers fucking freezing for some reason." It would appear that I was not as able to contain myself as well as I thought I had. "I figured that you would need some clean clothes to wear, I mean, you wouldn't want to go walk around in wet jeans and a bloody t-shirt."

I smile weakly at her. "Thank you, Chloe."

She runs one hand through her hair. "Well, take your pick, Max. This is all the stuff that'll probably fit you. I'll go and stick your dirty stuff in the laundry, Mom'll take care of it for you."

Before I can protest the idea of making more work for Joyce on my behalf, Chloe has already left the room, leaving me in privacy to get changed. I sigh heavily and begin rooting around in the pile of clothes. Some clothes smell like Chloe, others are freshly-laundered, and still others smell washed long ago and unworn since. It is one of this last category that catches my eye.

It's almost an inverted version of my Jane Doe shirt. Black with hot pink lettering and doe, grey double sleeves that are meant to be three quarter length but will probably be full-length on me. I grab it from the pile and hold it up against my body. Dropping the towel to pool around my ankles, I pull on my bra and a pair of Chloe's underwear. I pull Chloe's shirt over my head and am relieved to find that it is almost a perfect fit. It is a little long at the waist and I was right about the sleeves. I match it with Rachel's ripped jeans, the only pants I am certain will fit me.

I use the camera on my phone to see how I look. It is strange. I look like me, but also not like me. It is not the same as when I dressed up in Rachel's clothes before. I look like me but changed. Something still feels off. I grab my jacket off the floor and throw it on. It does not match but it looks more like me. I am fairly certain that that says something about my style.

The door swings open, "Hey, Max, I've shoved your stuff in the washing machine, we should probably-" Chloe stops, "Looking good Max, should have guessed you'd pick that one." She lopes over to me and drapes her arm around my shoulders, pulling me against her.

"I call this style hipster-punk." I say, trying to laugh. Chloe groans.

"Your sense of humour is terrible Max."

"My sense of humour?" I splutter, this coming from the girl who thinks 'boo-yah I'm a scary punk ghost' constitutes good humour. I check the time on my phone and realise that I have already missed a whole lesson and I really don't want to give principal Wells a reason to come after me. Chloe agrees, although not in so many words, and so we head back down the stairs and into her truck before leaving the Price household in true Chloe style, with a roar of her truck's engine and a belch of exhaust fumes.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Still here, still going.**

 **BTS was amazing, but that last scene was a complete gutpunch. Why Deck Nine? Why did you do that?**

 **And Farewell, apart from that ending, that was exactly what I wanted from the episode.**

* * *

We arrive back at Blackwell just in time for the last lesson of the day. I kiss Chloe before climbing out of the truck and practically sprinting towards the main doors. I get to media literacy just as Mr. Bedford is starting to take the register. I make my way across the classroom and collapse into my seat, my face red from the exertion. I slowly become aware of quiet whispering, just low enough so that the teacher cannot hear and realise that some of the other students have realised that I am wearing different clothes than I wore this morning. I can only feel relief that I don't share Science Lab with any of them, so will be unlikely to have to explain my absence. Victoria in particular is staring at me quite intently, previously that would have bothered me immensely, but now I just stare straight back at her. We hold each other's gaze for a few seconds before Mr. Bedford asks me a question about audience theories. I answer, and when I look back, Victoria has turned her head away from me and is whispering with Courtney.

The rest of the lesson passes without incident and I momentarily fool myself into believing that that will be the end of it, and that I will hear no more about it. I am immediately disabused of this notion as soon as I step out of the classroom.

"So good of you to _finally_ join us, Max." Victoria and Courtney block my path through the corridor. I feel somewhat reassured that Taylor is not with them, but as she was not in the class realise that this is less significant than I might hope. I try to ignore Victoria and step past her but she moves to block me off again. "And in such... fascinating clothes, I might add." Victoria's tone is condescending, and the smirk on her face only adds to her air of smug superiority. "Clothes that hardly fit you, and hardly fit with your waif hipster bullshit." She momentarily turns her gaze to Courtney. "One would almost begin to wonder who they do fit."

"Leave me alone, Victoria." I mumble, not wanting to have a confrontation with her here and now. She gets right up in my face.

"Or what? What are you going to do Max? Take a selfie at me." She laughs, and a moment later Courtney laughs with her. Fortunately, by moving into my personal space, Victoria has left me an avenue of escape. I step into the space she has recently vacated and squeeze past Courtney out of the classroom, my head down and my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I can hear their laughter following me down the corridor. I briefly contemplate going into the bathroom to splash some water on my face to get rid of the redness, but find myself unable to enter. I just stand in front of the door, my hand outstretched for what feels like hours but is more likely only a few seconds. I don't feel ready to face it. I know that it is irrational, but a part of my mind is convinced that if I set foot in the bathroom, I will get shot again.

I lower my hand and glance about the atrium, hoping that no one noticed my lapse in concentration and leave the building.

I am in the grounds outside the dorms when David Madsen approaches me. I mentally prepare myself for whatever bullshit the universe has decided to throw at me next.

"Miss Caulfield." He stops and starts again, "Max." He sounds apprehensive, almost nervous. It is not an emotional state that I would have associated with David. I have seen him furious. I have seen him defensive. I have seen him broken. I have seen him vulnerable after the come down off an adrenaline high. My mind quickly begins to take that thought to places that I really would rather not go and so I miss what David says next as I divert all my energy and attention to staving off another breakdown.

"Max?" David repeats himself, still sounding hesitant.

"I-I'm sorry." I say, "I just spaced out a bit."

"I asked if we could talk." He says, a touch of irritation creeping into his tone. "In private."

"What about?"

He raises a hand as if to gesture but stops himself. "About Chloe."

Shit. I had completely forgotten about the cameras in the Price household. "What- what about Chloe?" David sees straight through my pathetic attempt at stalling.

"Max. Please. I'm not- I'm not angry. With you _or_ Chloe. I understand why she didn't want to tell me." He turns almost away from and places one hand on the back of his neck. "My relationship with her is, difficult, she sees me as some sort of authoritarian dictator."

"What do you want, David?"

He sighs, "I know Chloe. If I approach her about this she'll overreact, we'll argue and everything will get worse. I don't want to ruin our relationship anymore than it is already. Joyce doesn't deserve that."

"On that we can agree." I say.

He nods. "I was hoping that Chloe would take it better coming from you. If you broached the topic with her she'd be less likely to blow up about everything."

I can see where he's coming from. Avoiding another Chloe blow-up can only be good for everyone involved. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Max." He sounds genuinely sincere. "I really appreciate this." I decide to push my luck.

"I think you should get rid of the cameras, Mr. Madsen." His head jerks upright.

"How did you-"

"I found the monitor in the garage." I tell him. "Chloe and Joyce wouldn't appreciate knowing that you were spying on them." I take a deep breath. "If you want Chloe to stop treating you like an authoritarian dictator, perhaps you should stop acting like one."

He stares at me, and for a moment I am scared that I have pushed him too far. I am almost about to raise my hand when he nods. "Maybe you're right. I'll tell you what. You help me with Chloe and I'll get rid of those cameras."

I know that he really cares about Chloe, of course he does, and having a smoother life at home can only be good for Chloe. Despite all this, I am aware of the dangers of this approach and I can't help thinking, what have I gotten myself into now?


End file.
